


May Drama Ensue

by SuicidalSmile



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game), Otome
Genre: Acting AU, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Multi Chapter, Romance, having to watch her be in love with another dude, lmaohewouldhatethatsomuch, mc as an actress, slight AU, so i had this idea and had to write it, zen as possessive/jealous boyfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuicidalSmile/pseuds/SuicidalSmile
Summary: It started off as a joke- audition for a role in the same TV show as Zen . . . maybe you'll get cast as an extra, it could be fun. Much to your surprise not only do you land the position of leading female but Zen receives the role of infamous crime lord- not to mention your captor. The situation as spiraled wildly out of control as you and Zen are now coworkers. Managing a stable relationship on set could be easier said than done. 
-Multi chapter/plot driven-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this idea popped into my head this morning and i was like damn i gotta try writing that. this is the first time ive written zen so i hope he's okay. and if you guys like this idea and concept i'll write more???  
> ((also the title really stumped me so sorry its dumb for some reason i really struggled with one))
> 
> also hmu @analsensei on tumblr to talk mystic messenger w/ me  
> ~hopefully you enjoy~

It had started out as a joke, something you’d been hoping would just be a small laugh between the two of you. Well, that was before it spiralled into  _ this _ . It happened a little over two weeks ago, you’d been up early preparing a lunch for Zen who was heading to an audition that day. 

Into the kitchen he came, a wide grin pulling at the corners of his lips as he admired you in the apron he’d bought- teasingly saying ‘kiss the cook’ in cursive letters. Which he then proceeded to do, with glee. 

“Morning love~” he purred against your cheek, his nose chilled against your flesh. “Whatever you’re making smells delicious.” 

You couldn’t help but smile as well, Zen’s flirtatious nature was infectious and you found it impossible to ignore; especially as his hands traced your spine, sending quakes of warmth throughout your body. Turning your head you pecked his nose, teasingly nibbling it as you elicited a delighted gasp from Zen. 

“It’s a big day today so I had to make a big lunch! You have that audition for that new TV show today, you’ll need something to fill you up beforehand.” You explained, closing the tupperware of his lunch and folding a napkin alongside it.

Humming into your neck, arms still wrung around you, Zen nodded. “Director says that it’s a pretty big deal. Apparently due to the show being based off a popular series of novels it’s already guaranteed for at least two seasons, this could be a major break for my acting career!” 

Putting Zen’s lunch aside you allowed yourself to be fully domineered by his arms, his hips pinning you against the counter. He was extra handsy in the mornings, from the moment you two woke up he insisted on touching you, mostly in innocent ways such as hair and cheeks- sometimes in other ways however. A slight flush rose to your cheeks as you eyed the island counter behind Zen, recalling one such occasion. 

“Why are you blushing?” Zen asked, poking your cheek lightly, his fair eyebrows cocked in question. 

Shaking your head quickly, hoping the action would rid your mind of it’s dirty thoughts, you refocused on your lover. “N-no reason! I was just thinking of how handsome you’ll look playing the detective. You’ve always looked so amazing in suits.” 

A giddy and pleased flush, outshining yours in comparison, heats Zen’s cheek. He was always incredibly susceptible to flattery, and he immediately dropped the previous line of inquiry.

“Y-You think so?” He repeated, scratching absentmindedly at his cheek. 

It was odd, ever since you two had started dating it seemed he found your compliments even more flustering, you didn’t understand why. Nonetheless you found it incredibly cute and often indulged him with praise to receive such a reaction. 

“Of course,” you nodded firmly. “You’re the  _ picture _ of refined charm and sophistication.”

Eyes widening and blush increasing Zen’s suddenly swoops forward and takes your lips, kissing you deeply. Another added bonus of praising him- Zen reciprocated in the best way possible. 

After several long moments, you pull back first, face still warm. “If you don’t hurry you’ll miss the train.” You whisper, fingers tracing the slope of his jaw. 

Glancing over at the clock, Zen confirms this is true, a small frown appearing. “You’re right, I should go. I’ll probably be back around dinner time, wanna catch a movie afterwards?” 

“Sounds fun,” you reply, handing him his wrapped lunch. “Good luck today.” 

Beaming, Zen nods and kisses you one last time, “thanks babe, see you later.” Then he was off, grabbing his shoes and coat and rushing out the door. 

As soon as he’s gone the house is quiet and you ponder what you yourself were going to do that day. Pacing over to the couch you notice that Zen has left the material and information about the audition on the coffee table. 

“Hopefully he doesn’t need this,” you muse to yourself flipping through the pamphlets.

The tv show was about an American detective who came over to Korea in search of his girlfriend who disappeared while studying abroad there a month prior. Once there he discovers his girlfriend was chosen as the local crime syndicate’s ‘girl’ and she was being held captive by them. Determined to get her back the detective works alongside a Korean cop to discover the whereabouts of his lost love. After reading the synopsis you immediately understand why Zen would want such a part. With his exotic looks he’d make an amazing detective and hero for this story, not to mention seeing him in action- he’d fit the part amazingly. Flipping over the sheet you notice a list of audition times, it seems like the show needed quite a large cast. There was three audition days, the first day was for the three male leads then the second was the extras then the last for the ‘girlfriend’. At the bottom of the page in bold was written ‘ _ local talent welcome _ ’. While staring at that small inscription a thought occurred to you- why don’t  _ you  _ audition? You hadn’t done much acting since college but you were familiar with sets and scripts, you had to be with Zen around. What was the harm? Excitedly you reach for a pen and write the date, time and location on a slip of paper. Even if you just got cast as an extra it would fun to work alongside Zen, it had always been a secret desire of yours. You couldn’t wait for the audition day. 

On the day of the audition you had told Zen you had an appointment to attend, not a complete lie, more like a white one. Thankfully Zen didn’t press you for any information, he was preoccupied reading and memorizing the lines for the Detective- he said he thought the audition went incredibly well and they’d be foolish not to choose him. You believed it, with how much vigour and passion Zen exuded while performing he was almost unstoppable. Waving good bye you stealthily put on a little more makeup than what you normally wear, you wanted to make a good impression. Once there you were taken in almost immediately, had you gotten there early? You were introduced to a small panel of producers, the director, a tall slim foreigner had a keen and sharp visage about him, you noticed his gaze as you took your seat. First they asked you a few introductory questions, your name, age, background in acting. Then, after they’d finished taking notes they handed you a script for the girlfriend. 

“Are you comfortable reading us a few lines as ‘Sara’?” One lady asked, “there are very few females in the script with lines.” 

_ The girlfriend, that’s the main female role- _ you thought panickedly,  _ will I be able to handle it?  _ However you masked these worries with a delicate smile, “of course, that will be no problem.” 

“Excellent, whenever you’re ready then.” 

Standing, forcing the trembling from your knees you scanned the dialogue quickly before beginning. It seemed like in this scene you were pleading with the crime lord to release you and return you to your true love, an emotionally charged scene to be sure. Swallowing thickly you began, morphing your face into one of utmost despair. For a long time you read, managing to flip through three lines of dialogue- with the director voicing the crime lord- before you were asked to stop. 

“That’s enough,” the director said, holding up a hand. “We’ll call you once we have the results, travel safely.”  

Bowing respectfully you left, the director’s face was so impassive and cold you wondered if he liked you. Although you never anticipated getting the lead role you felt a wave of anxiety crash through you-maybe be didn’t like you at all? On the train ride home you tried to recall any moments during the scene where he seemed to be enjoying your performance- much to your dismay you couldn’t think of one. 

 

Almost two weeks had passed since the audition, Zen was still practicing the detective’s lines and as he did you couldn’t help but picture yourself as the girlfriend. They had a lot of romantic scenes together- in the second act he infiltrates the warehouse and speaks to you through the bars of your cage. 

“It  _ kills  _ me to see you suffer like this, my love.” Zen recited, his eyes focused on the script in hand. 

“I know, as it  _ destroys _ me to see you grovel to that, scumlord. But time is merely a collection of seconds. It matters little as long as we’re both alive, please do not risk yourself for me. Hope is not lost yet.” You read blandly, not wishing Zen to know how many times you’d repeated this line in your head. 

Zen opened his mouth to say the next line when both of your cellphones rang simultaneously. Glancing at each other in surprise you both fished out your phones in a hurry and leapt off the couch. 

“ _ It’s the audition agency,”  _ Zen mouthed, eyes gleaming. He then proceeded to take the call, walking into the next room. 

Glancing down at your own phone you realized it was a number you didn’t recognize, ‘ _ T. Gliskten’  _ the caller ID read. Confused you pressed accept, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” You said. 

“Ah, hello this is Tristen Gliskten calling to inform you about your audition for ‘ _ Lone Orchid’ _ .” 

Your mouth went dry, this was it! With baited breath you tried to respond casually, “ah yes, and what was the result?” 

“Well as the director it’s uncommon for me to go to such lengths as making personal phone calls but in this case I felt it necessary-” 

_ Did he say director?!  _ You had never thought to remember his name, how stupid!

“As I was saying,” he continued, “upon rewatching your performance on a recording numerous times I’ve come to a rather  _ uncharacteristic _ decision . . . I want you to be Sara Fisher.” 

You froze, forgetting to breathe, your entire mind backfiring- was he being serious?!

Brushing past the fact that you hadn’t responded he carried on, “you lack experience in the field of TV acting yet I found myself bewitched by your performance more so than any of the others therefore I  _ couldn’t  _ consider another. We begin filming in three weeks time, we will be in frequent contact as I need to arrange you with an agent and begin establishing you as a debuting actress-there is much to be done. Now I have other duties to attend to, talk to you soon.” 

With that he hung up and left you alone with your shock; holding the phone until the dial tone began to chime. After a few moments of nullity Zen returned to the room, his face long and eyes downcast. 

Blinking away your numbness you turned to him, “what did they say?” You voice was hoarse yet Zen didn’t seem to notice. 

“Well I got  _ a  _ role just not  _ the  _ role.” Zen sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Say hello to Sung Min, the crime boss.” 

No way! This couldn’t be real! Everything was happening so fast, you were to be Sara Fisher- lead female and Zen was to be your captor!? Even in your wildest fantasies this wasn’t the result you had hoped for, this all began as a joke! 

Swaying on your feet, Zen reached out and caught you before you slumped to the ground. 

“ _ Whoa _ ! Are you alright?” 

Leaning your brow against Zen’s shoulder you let out a shaky laugh, “well Sung Min say hello to Sara Fisher.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At dinner with your new costars the reality of the situation sets in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all i want to say THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT. when i posted the first chapter i never imagined people would want to see more of this silly idea I had. it means a lot guys thankyousomuch. so here's the new chapter, please enjoy~

In the beginning Zen was ecstatic for you, he wouldn’t shut up about how you and him were going to be the best looking celebrity couple in Korea. The entire RFA was shocked that you had landed the role, with the exception of Seven who had secretly hoarded tapes of you from your college days performing various plays. 

‘ _ why didn’t you tell any of us  _ :(‘ Yoosung had asked in the group chat one day. 

‘ _ lololol God Seven has many things he keeps hidden,’  _ Seven had responded cheekily. 

This continued for a while, Yoosung and Seven bickering until Zen appeared in the chat and immediately the atmosphere changed. 

‘ _ Are you all ready to be awed by our combined talent? I’ve never been so excited for a role before. _ ’ Zen wrote, he was currently having a meeting with his personal agent so you were curious as to why he was on his phone. 

‘ _ aren’t you worried . . . you gotta watch your girlfriend fall in love with someone else. _ ’ Seven responded and that was when it all changed. 

From your spot on the couch you froze when those words popped up on the screen. You had just realized the truth of the situation yourself . . . Sara was in love with Reagan, the American detective. Trying to calm your frantic heart you rationalized that Zen, who had been in the business for many years, would completely understand and harbor no ill will against your fellow costar; Zen was a  _ professional  _ afterall. Yet even as you told yourself this there had yet to be a response from Zen himself. 

_ ‘ohoh might’ve hit a nerve.’  _ Seven continued to tease, a string of laughing emoji’s following in tow of the snide comment.  __

‘ _ Seven don’t act dumb, Zen’s a pro he knows how to deal with situations like this.’  _ Yoosung chimed in, berating Seven lightly. 

Your thumbs wanted to type out an agreement to Yoosung’s statement but inside you began to have doubts. You didn’t have very many ex boyfriends but you had a small share and by your ill luck Zen had to be there each time you happened to run into one; they were never pleasant conversations. Wincing, you were just about to write something cheesy such as  _ ‘it doesn’t matter Zen’s the only one for me _ ’ but before you could Zen finally responded. 

_ ‘It won’t matter who the guy is. She’s mine. And mine only. _ ’

The words reverberated through you and your entire body went warm. Eyes wide you fanned at your cheeks, it was a rarity when Zen became serious. When you were with him you could spot the signs easily, narrowed eyes, stiffened shoulders and his fists would clench and unclench at his sides. After that message Zen left the chatroom and it was just Yoosung and Seven gawking over Zen’s mini outlash. Closing your eyes and slumping against the couch you suddenly felt very tired. 

  
  


As the director promised there was much to be done in the weeks up until the start of shooting and suddenly the quiet days became no more. With both you and Zen completely swamped with interviews, photoshoots, makeup consultations and getting you set up with an acting agency you rarely saw each other. By the time you both were home at the same time you were too tired to even maintain a conversation, giving into sleepy cuddles instead. In truth you missed his presence, you missed making him breakfast and the occasional dates you’d partake in- you became lonely.

So one evening the two of you were asked by the director to attend a cast dinner, the actors for both Reagan and the Korean cop, Se Jun would be there. You were looking forward to the dinner, it would be your first time meeting your fellow costars, yet Zen didn’t seem nearly as enthused. Already dressed he was lounging on the couch, script resting atop his face as he mumbled something to himself. From the bathroom you could hear his grumbling and wondered what was the matter, poking your head out from the door you asked. 

“Zen, is everything alright?” 

A pregnant pause, “no . . .” he muttered, so softly you almost didn’t catch it. “Everything it  _ not  _ alright.” 

Setting aside your makeup you came into the room, walking over to where he was laying. Gazing down at him you tenderly stroked his bangs before speaking.

“How come? What’s the problem?” 

Sighing, Zen reached up and removed the script from his face, crimson eyes meeting yours. Brows knitted tightly he seemed very worked up over something, lips pulled into a tight frown.

“I don’t like it.” He confessed, eyes still locked on you.

“Don’t like what?” You asked confused, fingers lingering near his temple. 

“My agent said we shouldn’t tell the Director we’re a couple . . . said we should just say we’re long time friends to avoid any bad press.” 

Your fingers paused in their ministrations, resting near the corner of Zen’s eye. “We should pretend we’re not dating?” You repeated, unbelievingly. 

Zen’s eyebrows furrowed deeper, “see this is why I didn’t want to tell you. That look on your face says everything.” 

Feeling cold your gaze fell from his, focusing instead on his crooked tie. “I didn’t want this . . . maybe I should just tell them I quit, if I can’t be your girlfriend-” 

You were silenced as Zen’s forefinger found your quivering lips, his eyes melting in sincerity. “Is this something you want?” He whispered, guiding you around the couch and then pulling you atop him. 

With your head now tucked under Zen’s chin the tears that threatened to leak halted, his presence soothing you immeasurably. For a moment you considered the question, you never really thought of yourself as an actress yet you couldn’t deny the joy of being chosen as one. In the beginning you convinced yourself it didn’t matter either way, it was just for fun, but now . . . maybe this  _ was  _ something you wanted. 

“I-I think I do.” You confessed. 

You felt Zen chuckle beneath you, his arms encompassing you into a snug hug. “That’s what I thought. It’ll be hard, probably more so for me, but I support you. If this is what you want, then we’ll fight for it together.” 

Warmth exploded inside your chest as Zen’s words brought joyous tears to your eyes. Leaning up you took his lips, hands finding his hair as you kissed him passionately. You feared Zen would find you selfish, wanting such a thing, he was the actor not you- but his pure and kind words had resonated within you. Zen was the man you loved, and though these following months of filming may be taxing you’d still have your love. 

“You shouldn’t tease me like this,” Zen huffed gruffly, his swollen lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “We have a dinner to get to but all I can think about is how much more I’d like that dress on the  _ floor _ .” 

Jolting in surprise you looked up at him, his eyes were dark and a coy smile tugged at his lips. Heat rising to your face you playfully swatted his chest, “y-you’re so dirty!” 

“Dirty? Me?” Zen asked mockingly, “you’re the one who’s blushing furiously right now.” 

Groaning you untangled yourself from his arms and stomped back over to the bathroom, “I’ve got to finish my makeup!” You declared, closing the door behind you. 

Laughing, Zen stretched lazily, picking up the script again, “whatever you say, princess.” 

 

The restaurant the director had reserved was so fancy it appeared to be out of a movie scene itself. Zen and you had arrived together but there was to be no touching, both of you agreed upon it, no matter how difficult it may be. Despite both of you being dressed up the sheer elegance of the restaurant made you feel rather homely in comparison, wishing you’d selected something fancier than a simple summer dress. 

Picking up on your insecurity, Zen took your arm and led you towards the door; not an intimate gesture just a familiar one, a safe one. Leaning in he whispered in your ear, “you look great. Remember out of  _ everyone  _ who auditioned they picked you, hold your head high.” 

Nodding gratefully you placed a practiced smile on your face, allowing Zen to guide you indoors. The interior was even grander than the outside, with high ceilings, custom crown mouldings, dark hardwood floors and five tiered chandeliers, it was all a bit overwhelming. Thankfully Zen seemed more accustomed to this finery than yourself and he did the entirety of the talking. 

“Hello, we’re part of the cast for ‘ _ Lone Orchid’  _ could you guide us to our table please?” Zen asked the clerk smoothly. 

“Of course, follow me sir.” With a low bow, a man donning pale grey slacks and a collared shirt escorted you and Zen to the back of the restaurant. 

You knew you were likely just being paranoid but as you passed rows of dining guests you felt as if each person was watching you. ‘ _ Who is that plain girl and why is she here’  _ these silly thoughts began to chorus in your mind but you quickly suffocated them as you spotted the Director. Tristen Glistken was a middle aged American man, tall and blonde he stood out amidst the crowd and immediately his keen eyes found Zen and you. 

“Ah, you’re both here. It seems the other two have yet to arrive, please take a seat.” He offered politely, turning from you and asking something of the server. 

Instinctively you wanted to sit aside Zen but something within you told you to avoid any chance of temptation. Gently tugging at his sleeve you leaned upwards and whispered into Zen’s ear. 

“I’ll sit alongside the Director, don’t want him thinking we’re  _ too _ familiar.” You say softly, not missing the way Zen shivers at your breath. 

Eyes widening in surprise you see something flicker within them as his brows pinch. He’s unhappy with your decision but consents nonetheless, shuffling to the other side of the table and taking a seat. Immediately you regret this decision of solidarity for as soon as the Director is done speaking to the waiter he begins to grill you incessantly. 

“I saw the results of your photoshoot . . . they weren’t amazing, quite stiff truly but I think aesthetically your face is appealing if a bit normal.” He says offhandedly, following the sideways compliment with a sip of champagne. 

“O-oh?” Is all you manage to say, and from across the table you can see Zen’s nostrils flare.  

“Where I’m from you’d  _ never  _ be considered for such a role but here, in Korea, I think you’ll be fine. After all alongside you is-” 

Suddenly Tristen is cut off as a deep throaty laugh sounds from behind the two of you. All eyes swivel and focus on the source of the commotion, wondering who’d be causing such a ruckus. As you turn you see a man so tall he must have to duck through doorways, honey coloured hair and blue eyes are crinkled in laughter as he pats the back of a smaller Korean man, who’s chuckling alongside nervously. 

The Director’s eyes light up in recognition, setting aside his champagne glass. “Ah Jake, Jin good to see you both. Please take a seat.” 

As the Director speaks the laughter dies and the two strange men focus on the scene before them, it’s the foreigner who speaks first. 

“Sorry about that Tristen, Jin here couldn’t seem to pick out what tie to wear.” The man named Jake jokes jovially.

Jin, the shorter and demure in comparison, man just rolls his eyes, “more like you don’t know when to shut up Jake. If we stayed at the tailor's anylonger you would’ve left with each sales persons number.” 

Waving away their inside joke, the Director gestures to their seats, eager to get things underway or perhaps motivated by hunger- you’re unsure which. Jake, sits beside you as Jin moves around and takes the seat alongside Zen’s. 

“You must be my leading lady,” Jake says with a grin, scooping your hand up into his own. “Pleasure to meet you finally, name’s Jake Allen.” Then, before you can get a word in edgewise his lips brush across your knuckles. “I look forward to working with you.” 

A crash sounds as a glass of water that’d been sitting on the table falls over, looking up in surprise you immediately know the cause of the accident. Zen is sitting stiff as a board, arms rigid at his side as his eyes bore into Jake’s head. 

Blinking in surprise, Jin unfurls his napkin and begins soaking up the mess, eyeing Zen out the corner of his eye. 

“Are you alright, Zen?” The Director asks, catching the eye of an employee and waving her over. 

You watch mortified as Zen has to physically unclench his jaw, forcing a toothy smile. “I’m fine, random leg twitch, it happens sometimes.” He replies tersely, a muscle along his jaw feathering. 

Turning his attention from you Jake speaks up again, “you sure you don’t need to get that checked out, bud? Never heard of such a thing.” 

“Bud?” Zen asks, forcing his voice into normalcy. 

Jake looks confused for half a breath before he laughs again, “ah oops, sometimes I forget that’s not a Korean word. Such a different language from English.” 

“Jake’s from America, though he’s fluent in several languages, he even lived in Korea for a time.” The Director explains blandly, nursing his champagne again. 

A slight blush rises to Jake’s tan cheeks, highlighting the freckles along his nose. “Oh don’t butter me up too much, Tristen. I’m sure everyone else here knows just as many as myself or more, look at Jin for example!” 

Jin, whose nose was buried in the menu, glances up. “I only speak Korean, Japanese, Mandarin and English. Not many compared to you.”

Both you and Zen blanche, you only knew a handful of English phrases and words and Zen knew less than that, these two were extremely intimidating! 

Thankfully, the Director stopped Jake before he could interrogate you about your knowledge of tongues. “Have you all had a chance to look at the menu? Let’s order shall we?” 

As he says this a woman appears, “what may I get you this evening?” 

“I’ll have the poached salmon please, light on the sauce and stay away from green onions.” The Director says, handing her his menu. 

“I’ll have the bulgogi platter,” Jin says. 

“Me too, please.” Zen echoes, handing his menu over.

“The steak for me, extra rare and make sure it’s seasoned evenly.” Jake instructs, handing the waitress his menu behind your back. 

As she takes it from him his arm doesn’t retract, it stays on the back of your chair, fingers brushing your forearm. Startled by his forwardness you forget to say anything, your cheeks flaring up as his thumb runs a light circle into your flesh. 

“And for yourself miss?” The waitress prompts. 

Jumping in your seat you gulp rapidly, “I-I-I’ll have the house salad please!” 

Ignoring the stares of the surrounding men you give her your menu and then focus your attention on the bottom of your wine glass. You’re unable to meet Zen’s eye, afraid of what you might see in them. Luckily you’re able to shrug off Jake’s advances as you excuse yourself to go to the washroom. Once inside the stall you take out your phone and message Zen, ‘ _ this is going to be a lot harder than I thought . .  . _ ’ A few minutes go by no response, you decide he’s probably too busy conversing to answer. Just as you’re about to leave your phone rings, Zen’s photo ID appearing onscreen; you answer immediately.  

“Zen?’ You whisper, worried of people overhearing you. 

“This is bad,” his voice is hoarse through the phone and you wonder where he is. 

“What are you doing?” 

A pause, “smoking.” He replies curtly. 

“Zen . . .” you start to scold, he hadn’t smoked for almost three months now. 

“Forgive me babe I just  _ needed  _ it. Seeing him touch you-” you hear his teeth clench shut, “I  _ needed  _ this.” 

Guilt washes over you, this was your fault-your selfish desire you were both fulfilling. You had to make it up to him somehow. “Let me pay you back tonight~” you murmur, feeling a familiar heat pool in your gut. 

Zen’s breath hitches as he tries to calm himself, “whatcha thinking?” 

Smiling you reply, “only good things. But for now let’s go back or they’ll get suspicious.” 

Grunting his approval Zen says, “I’m looking forward to later~” 

“So am I.” Then with that you hang up, trying to ignore your fluttering heartbeat as you head back to the table. 

The rest of the dinner passes unceremoniously, aside from Zen’s occasional sharp look in Jake’s general direction. Jake is kind if a little bit egotistical, he talked continuously about where he’d been, whom he acted alongside and the opportunities his talent granted him. Jin was more to your liking, soft spoken, humble and a good listener. He seemed to know Jake well, they’d done jobs together before but was more than happy to let Jake retell their adventures. After the dishes had been cleared and many bottles of wine polished off, it was time to head home, the moon high in the sky. 

“Thanks for the grub, Tristen.” Jake thanked happily, rubbing his stomach. “Haven’t eaten that well since Milan.” 

“My pleasure, thanks for attending. As a reminder filming begins next week, arrive early, the makeup artists have a lot of experimenting to do. And remember to sleep and eat properly, I’ll set each of you up with a dietary specialist. Now, goodnight, see you soon.” Then the Director was off, sliding into a sleek black car and vanishing into the night. As the Director departed Jake’s attention once again fell to you, boyish grin in full effect.

“So would you be interested in coming over to my hotel room and practicing lines together? I feel like I barely know you and I’d like to change that.” 

Your blood runs cold as you seize under his predatory gaze, “I can’t actually-” 

“We already had plans to do that.” Zen interjects, sliding in front of you. 

Jake’s eyes widen marginally but he covers his surprise well, “I see, you two  _ do  _ have quite a few scenes together. Just make sure to pencil me in soon hun. Tristen gave me your cell, I’ll buzz you later.” He tells you with a wink, “Jin and I are gonna go inspect the bar scene, haven’t been to Seoul in ages. Night~” With a wave of his fingers Jake and Jin make their way down the block, disappearing from view. 

Exhaling deeply you follow Zen to the taxi stop, wanting to hold his hand but afraid of onlookers. 

“That was exhausting.” You groan, as Zen dials for the cab. 

Placing the phone back in it’s holster Zen looks down at you, a scowl on his face. “Now you see why I say all men are wolves!” He barked hotly, “he probably thought he’d take you back to his place and he’d  _ smooze _ you real quick! He’s such a-”

“ _ Hyun _ !” You interrupt, using his given name to startle him into silence; “not here.” 

Grimacing he nods, “yeah, yeah, forgive your jealous boyfriend for wanting that asshole to stop making  _ bedroom _ eyes at you.” 

“Bedroom eyes?” You intone, not understanding.

“Yeah, you know how he was looking at you,” he mumbled gruffly, “like he could see through your clothes.” 

Flushing you tug your coat closer,“that’s perverted.”

“Know you know what I mean, he’s a toeing the damn line.” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Let’s just get back home and do what you mentioned earlier.” He smirked, eyeing you up and down. 

You feel your blush burn all the way to your roots, “y-you better be prepared.” 

“ _ Ohoho _ , is that a threat?” He breathes.

Grinning slyly you long to kiss him despite being in public, wishing everyone around would disappear. “No it’s a promise.” 

“Even better.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there it was, next chapter will be on set! and i hope my oc's are at least somewhat bearable i just couldn't envision any of the canon mystic messenger characters being the Detective ((they're all too introverted)) I hope this chapter was alright as well i'd really appreciate the continued support. it means so much. thanks again. appreciate ya!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day on set isn't exactly a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO. sorry for taking a while had to pick my brain a bit for this one. thank you so much for the positive responses and support. means a lot. without further ado here we go~

In the days since the dinner things had returned to normal for the most part. The Director was too preoccupied with dealing with the advertisement and set management team to pester you too thoroughly; though he had maintained his promise of finding each of you a nutrition specialist. Zen, who before you had moved in, always ate sporadically and mainly what he pleased was corrected thusly. 

“Absolutely  _ no  _ alcohol,” the petite woman had instructed, “no beer, no wine, no  _ nothing _ .” 

The three of you were patrolling the grocery store as the nutrition specialist picked out suitable things for each of your dietary needs; thankfully she hadn’t asked why the two of you were together. 

Beside you Zen notably blanched, paling slightly. “O-of course.” He nodded, side eying the exotic looking vegetables she was bagging. 

“And  _ you _ ,” she turned, “we’ve got our work cut out for us! No packaged food, no sweets, no artificial sugars and cut down on the sodium!”    

Shrinking under her sharp tongue you also nodded your consent, “I understand.” 

Smiling as she realized she’d defeated each of you, she then handed you a bag of a leafy greens you didn’t recognize. At your confused look she groaned, rubbing the pinched skin between her brow. 

“It’s called  _ kale.  _ And from now on it’ll be your best friend.” 

Blinking, you shot Zen a sideways look he just shrugged, sneaking a carrot from the bag and nibbling it. After far too long the three of you made it to the checkout and were rung through. You had almost fainted when you heard the price, extremely thankful that the nutritionist seemed to be covering the bill. After she’d paid she departed, once again reminding Zen of her no alcohol tolerance. 

Watching her slip into an approaching taxi Zen let out a low sigh, “I guess we’re in for the long haul now. What am I going to do with those three six packs in the fridge?” 

Snorting in amusement, you adjusted your grip on the grocery bags, signalling for another taxi. “Invite Yoosung over again~ he seemed to enjoy them last time.” 

“Don’t encourage him! Yoosung is the most annoying drunk I know.” Zen huffed hotly, wincing as he recalled a heavily intoxicated Yoosung bathing himself in your sink, still clothed. 

“You’re no fun,  _ I  _ had a good time.” You argued, remembering fondly Zen’s exact reaction as Yoosung kissed him on the cheek after you’d told him to, his eyes had never been as wide. 

“My girlfriend is a demon, truly evil.” He pouted, frowning down at you.

“Oh shush, look the taxi’s here!” You pointed out, tugging at his sleeve as you pulled him across the parking lot, his childish bickering continuing. 

  
  


As the days until shooting ticked down Jake had kept his promise of calling you. In fact he called you extremely often, late at night, early in the morning and in any circumstance. You hadn’t told Zen the extent of his calling, knowing that his reaction could cause some serious problems. Jake was  _ very  _ open, soon you knew where he’d went to school, how many girlfriends he’d had, how he liked his coffee- he never stopped talking. You didn’t mind talking to him, his presence was warm, almost older brother like, and he was quite funny. One night, two days before the shoot, he’d called you at two am. Oddly enough you’d been up already, puttering around the kitchen making tea, hoping Zen didn’t hear you as he slept in the next room. As you dumped two generous scoops of sugar in your brew your phone chimed, startling you. 

Reaching across the counter you picked it up, not needing to check the ID to know who it was, you answered it. 

“Hello Jake.” You mumbled tiredly, hoping that if you pretended he’d roused you from sleep he’d feel guilty and hang up. 

“Good morning sugarpea~” he sang, a loud chorus of noise in the background. “I’m at this house party and it occurred to me . . . why aren’t you here with me?” 

He was drunk, he often was and you thought bitterly he hadn’t received the same nutrion instructions as Zen and you. “I’m not there with you because it’s two am and I’m tired, Jake.” You explained blandly, taking a sip from your tea.

A pause, another boom of background noise. “No no, I know _ that _ . I meant that we’ve known each other for more than a week and you haven’t come on to me  _ once _ . Wazzup with dat?” 

Numbly you blinked, shocked stiff at his question. Unable to answer Jake continued on, offering further explanation to his bold inquiry. 

“It’s just that I’m so used to - **_hiccup_ ** _ \-  _ girls throwing themselves at my feet. ‘ _ Oh handsome Jake take me,’  _ or ‘ _ Jake let me travel the world with you. I wanna be yours’  _ ya know like that? But you - **_hiccup_ ** _ \-  _ nothing . . . I don’t know if you like me or hate me.”

Still floored by his question you answered before you had time to think on your words,”of course I don’t hate you.” 

It was the truth, Jake was overbearing and somewhat a nuisance but you didn’t hate him.  

“ _ Ahh~  _ so you  _ don’t _ hate me. So you like me then?” His tone has a sort of pleading edge to it, as if depending on your answer it could make or break him. 

Chewing on the inside of your cheek you cursed your own kindness, “yeah I suppose I like you.” You admitted, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way. 

Jake did of course, you could almost hear his grin through the phone. “So do you  _ like like  _ me then?” 

“Jake . . .” You trailed off, hoping the exasperation in your voice would stop this line of questioning. 

Yet before he could say another word a familiar voice chimed in; “Oi Jake! What are you doing? Who the hell are you talking to?” 

Relief, Jin had emerged and you were saved. The shuffle of Jake standing or readjusting sounded, his heavy breathing echoing through the receiver. 

“I’m talking so our beautiful princess, Jin~” Jake drawled, words a messy slur. “She said she _ likes  _ me.” He sounded so proud of this fact you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. 

You are almost able to hear Jin’s audible frown, “she only said she likes you because it’s two am and you’re drunk,  _ idiot _ . Now hang up! I called a cab to get us back to the hotel.” 

Jake bemoans, Jin seemed to be quite used to his antics and knew how to handle the drunken stupor. “Bye for now princess, see you soon~” he whispered into the receiver before hanging up. 

As the line went dead a small smile tugged at your lips, these were going to be your fellow costars! You hoped you and Zen had the stamina to keep up with their wily antics. Sipping your tea you scrolled your phone for nearly an hour before the staved off exhaustion crept up. Yawning you made your way to the bedroom, hoping Zen hadn’t already nabbed all the blankets. Kicking off your slippers you crawled into bed, finding Zen’s cocooned warmth and snuggling into it. Snaking your arms around his lithe torso a sleepy coo sounded from the unconscious man and he hugged you tight against him. His heartbeat thrummed against your ear, a steady calming rhythm that lulled you into sleep, Zen’s nose buried itself into your hair before exhaustion overcame you. 

 

The morning of the first day of shooting you awoke to coffee in bed. Zen had roused hours before you, which was quite an unusual occurrence, and the rich smell alerted you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, two mugs in hand his hair still delightfully mused, he smiled. 

“Morning sweetie~” he hummed, “you better get up today is a big day.” 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you sat up, gratefully accepting the mug from your boyfriend. Taking a deep sip, the rich flavour coating your senses, you felt your entire body warm. 

“Thank you,” you said softly, “this is really good.” 

Again Zen smiled, it’s infectious charm could still cause your heart to palpitate. “It was Yoosung’s suggestion actually. He’s in the barista club at the university.” 

“Hmm~ Yoosung knows his stuff.” 

Reaching out to remove a pillow fluff from your hair, Zen’s hand lingered, fingers falling to your cheek. Surprised, you met his eye as within his crimson irises something unrecognizable arose. The tenderness of his gesture and expression startled you, the pinch between his brow increasing.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, settling the mug into your lap. 

Zen’s gaze faltered from your own, sighing softly his forefinger traced the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry it’s nothing, I’ll go fry a couple eggs. You’d best get dressed.” Leaning in he caught your lips briefly, withdrawing before you could deepen the kiss. 

Still confused you watched him as he left the bedroom, vanishing down the hall. Numbly you chugged the coffee, ignoring the taste now. You couldn’t deny the slight worry growing within your chest, that look of Zen’s was foreign to you. Settling the cup aside you threw back the covers and made your way to the shower- perhaps some hot water would clear your mind. Jumping into the scalding water, dutifully scrubbing shampoo into your hair your thoughts began to stir. Thoughts of Jake and Jin, thoughts of the Director and the show but mostly thoughts of Zen. You fretted that this selfish desire would jeopardize your relationship- all because your petty dream. So preoccupied with your thoughts you remained in the shower until the water ran cold, forcing you to quickly rinse the suds from your head. Towelling your hair dry, you dressed modestly, knowing the costume designer's would be changing you once on set. After you were dressed and ready you followed the delicious scent of fried eggs to the kitchen. Back turned to you, Zen was sliding two perfectly done eggs onto a plate. Sneaking up behind him you swooped in and pressed a quick kiss to his neck. 

“Those look amazing,” you said, chin resting atop his shoulder, an impressive feat considering how you were perched on your tippy toes. 

Chuckling Zen held up the plate, fishing up the egg with a pair of chopsticks and offering it to you. “Taste it before you say anything. You know I don’t cook often.” 

This was true, before the drama with the show you cooked almost every meal . . .  lately you’d been resorting to take out. Opening your mouth you gulped the entire egg, yolk staining your chin as you chewed. 

Gawking Zen watched in shock as you polished off the egg. Beaming at him cheekily, you took the chopsticks and mimicked what he’d done before. “Say  _ aaah~ _ ” you teased, holding the egg up to his mouth.

Eyes dancing, Zen smoothly took the egg, also capturing it in a single bite. You stared as his adam’s apple bobbed, licking the remnants from his lips. Once, twice, three times his pink tongue circled his mouth before you realized he was _ also _ teasing you. 

“C-cut it out!” You quipped hotly, punching him lightly in the arm. 

“Cut what out?” Zen asked mock innocently, lips swirling into a self congratulatory smirk. “I was just licking my lips. 

Turning from him, not wanting him to see your warmed face, you retorted. “ _ Sure  _ you were. Now we’d better get going- Director will never forgive us if we’re late on the first day.”

Heading to the door you pulled on your coat and shoes, grabbing your purse and keys, waiting for him expectantly. 

“The only reason we’d be late it because  _ someone _ took forever in the shower.” Zen chided softly, lacing up his boots. 

“Let’s just go,” you huffed, opening the door. 

“As my lady commands~” Zen said, with a stiff salute, still grinning. 

“You’re impossible you know.” 

  
  


It was far more chaotic than you’d anticipated. Just as you and Zen arrived you were leapt upon, makeup artists and costuming staff detangling you and whisking you off in opposite directions. Promptly you were sat down and a swarm of staff surrounded you, all talking amongst one another. Your hair was pinned, curled, combed, then curled again, face patted and smeared with foundation, powder and blush. Suppressing a sneeze your eyes began to water as fake eyelashes were glued to your lid. It was all incredibly overwhelming, never in your life had you had so many people clamouring around you. Ruefully you realized that to everyone else this was quite mundane, you were the newbie with everything to prove. That truth stole your breath away but before you had time to think on it further the Director appeared. 

Donning his preferred classic suit and tie the makeup and costume staff parted for him, ducking aside to make way. His eyes were masked, the usual lucidity of his persona even more icy today- you wondered if it was due to stress. 

Ignoring you, he turned to the lead makeup artist. “So  _ this  _ is the look we’ve decided on? Looks different than I’d pictured.” 

The poor makeup lead bristled slightly, clearly offended. “Well the model we’d originally designed this look for had blue eyes, perhaps if we-” he began.

“Do it.” The Director said dismissively, “just make sure it’s done in twenty minutes, we’re wasting precious shooting time.” 

Turning back to you, the Director now moving on to another area of scrutiny, the makeup artist smile stiffly. “Have you ever worn coloured contacts before?” 

You shook your head, “no, I haven’t.” 

He grimaced slightly, “well it’ll be uncomfortable but hopefully you can manage- here we go~” 

 

You felt like an alien in your own skin. Never before had you worn so much makeup, the fake eyelashes felt like concrete blocks on your lids, and the contacts shifted across your iris awkwardly. As soon as your look was complete you were shuffled into the shooting warehouse, today you’d be focusing on the indoor scenes. It appeared neither Zen nor Jake was done yet as you didn’t see them around, you wondered what Zen’s character looked like. Not sure what to do with yourself you instead decided to watch the staff frantically put things together. The set was a rickety old office, complete with a beat up desk and three moth eaten chairs. Today you’d be filming the scene after Jake’s character rescues you from Zen’s. It was an emotionally charged scene that would then be disrupted by Zen and his mercs. It was a pivotal scene, for following it would begin Zen’s character’s descent into madness as he realized he could never possess you. 

“Are you zoning out thinking how you’re going to have to kiss me today?” Jake’s voice sounded behind you and you nearly leapt out of your skin in shock. 

Whirling around you were face to face with Jake, his now commonplace grin tugging at his tanned cheeks. His hair was slicked off his forehead, parted to the side, with a single curl gracing his brow. It was rather startling, to see his transformation from happy go lucky manchild to dapper Detective, you felt somewhat rattled by this new charming persona.

“So . . . you’re impressed?” He goaded gleefully, doing a quick turn so you could take it all in. “Shocked speechless aren’t ya?” 

Blinking rapidly you couldn’t deny the accusation, it  _ was  _ surprising, he looked almost like a different person. “Y-you look quite handsome.” You complimented modestly, unable to lie when faced with his megawatt smile. 

The grin grew in size, Jake seemed extremely pleased by your comment. “Don’t I? Have you fallen for me yet?”   
Your throat grew dry and Jake’s teasing comment flew over your head as you spotted someone coming up behind him. Silver threaded hair, paired with rosen eyes, your breath caught as you realized those familiar eyes were set on you. Zen, looked like a human panther, head to toe in leathers, crisscrossed in belts. His cheekbones seemed to leap off his alabaster flesh and the sharpness of his jaw could carve marble; he looked incredible. Forgetting how to breathe you ogled as Zen approached you and Jake, scowling deeply-it appeared he had overheard your conversation and wasn’t happy. 

Finally noticing your staring Jake turned to see what you were gawking at and his jaw also dropped. Zen looked surreal, almost ethereal, he was always attractive but this was  _ illegal _ . 

“Jake,” he grunted, irritation evident in his tone, “the Director is looking for you.” He withheld from saying ‘ _ so you’d better fuck off’.  _

Jake glanced between the two of you, obviously sensing the combative energy but consented nonetheless. “Alright, alright. Catch you on set cutie~” He said, waving as he sauntered away. 

Once you two were alone, you looked up at Zen, wanting to touch him but you were unable to due to the onlookers. Swallowing you forced a tight smile, your heart still fluttering. 

“You look amazing.” You managed though he looked far better than words could describe, you longed to take a picture for Jaehee. 

His eyes found you and he let out a laboured sigh, rubbing his knitted brow. “I feel like I have to be on constant watch because of that asshole. Don’t let your guard down!” He told you rather forcibly, “he’s just waiting to pounce.” 

“Jake’s like that with every girl,” you told him, trying to reassure his needless worries. “B-besides how could I look at him when I have the most handsome guy around.” You whispered the last part, your face growing hot, hoping the makeup would mask the blush. 

Zen’s eyes widened and a sly grin replaced his smirk- he was still susceptible to flattery it would seem. “I know. I look pretty deadly in this don’t I? I’ll be the hottest crime boss in history.” 

Nodding enthusiastically you buttered him up further, “probably the best looking villain of all time as well!” 

Brows raising, Zen placed a finger on his chin. “You’re right! Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t been kidnapped yet for my stellar good looks. Sold off to some foreign princess for hundreds of thousands of dollars.” He mused, “especially when I look  _ this _ good.” 

Giggling, you were happy to find that despite the previous tension things quickly went back to normal. 

“By the way,” Zen began cutting off your laughter, “are you wearing contacts?” 

“Oh, so you finally noticed,” you scoffed, “apparently Sara Fisher has blue eyes so I was forced to wear them.” 

Zen contemplated you for a moment, scrutinizing you up and down before his face broke into a toothy grin. “You look super cute, good enough to eat. Although I prefer your natural eyes.” 

“O-oh?” You asked, charmed by the compliment. 

“Yeah, your natural eyes are like . . . honey!” He replied earnestly. “Melted honey.” 

Flushing you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, “a-ah I see. . .thanks.” 

The two of you chatted for a bit, talked about the set, how the Director seemed to have a real stick up his ass and other inconsequential things. Then you were silenced by the sharp ring of a whistle. Glancing towards the set the Director stood, face still impassive. 

Lifting a microphone to his mouth he began, “good morning everyone, we’re a little behind schedule so we’ll have to make up for lost time. Can I get Sara and Reagan to come up to the set. We’ll be shooting ACT 2 scene 5 today, let’s get moving!” 

Immediately following the Director's instruction everyone leapt into action, camera men flocking to their equipment and staff hands adjusting lighting and sound. Glancing at Zen he shot you a quick thumbs up before he was ushered aside. Nerves bloomed in your stomach as you forced your shaky limbs on set. The Director was already situated, microphone in hand, leg crossed over one another in his chair. 

“Alright, Sara I need you to sit on the edge of the desk,” he began, gesturing to the object. 

You did as you were told, helped up onto it by a staff hand, awkwardly you awaited the next instruction. 

“Now cross your legs at the ankle and slump your shoulders, you’ve just been rescued and you’re extremely tired and mentally exhausted.” 

Again you did as instructed, eyeing the Director through your fringed bangs. 

“When Reagan comes into the office I want you to leap up and run to him, you’re ecstatic to see your long lost love and I want to see that desperation on your face.” 

Steeling yourself you nodded, Jake who was off to the side shot you a sideways glance, his face one of utmost concentration. The Director then instructed Jake, explaining how he wanted him to react. Reagan was calm cool and collected always, worked well under pressure and you snickered to yourself as you tried to envision Jake like that. 

Soon the Director finished instructing Jake, and motioned to the camera crew. “Alright, take one begins in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1.” He mouthed the one and pointed to you. 

Shoving aside your nerves you locked away all other thoughts, you were Sara Fisher and you had a lot to prove. Everyone else was an established actor, you had to be amazing and prove to the Director he made the right choice casting you. Upon the desk you began to whimper, shoulders trembling as you quivered on the desk top. This was a vulnerable moment for Sara and the audience needed to see her as a worn down woman who’d been through a horrible ordeal. For several prolonged heartbeats you sobbed into your hands, only ceasing when you heard the click of the office door. From there it was instinctual, you watched as Jake came through the door, tucking his hat under his arm. Jumping from the desk you half ran, half stumbled into him, arms circling around his waist. 

“Reagan!” You gasped breathily, burying your nose in his side. “You came! You actually came! I can’t believe it!” 

Jake’s face remained expressionless, allowing you to hug him. “Of course I came.” He said simply, voice smoothed into a sultry grovel. 

Looking up you gazed at him like he was your entire world, to Sara he was. “But how did you defeat Sung Min?” 

A smug smile, alien from Jake’s boyish grin. “I didn’t, he gave up.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I convinced him you could never be his.” Jake said gruffly, detangling your arms from his waist and raising your curled hands to his lips. 

You watched with a mixture of fascination and awe as he kissed each knuckle, eyes never leaving yours. “Reagan?” You breathed. 

“Who do you belong to?” He asked huskily, turning your wrist over and lavishing your pulse with his tongue. 

You froze- this wasn’t in the script! Panicking, you tried to remember where you were whilst he continued lapping at your wrist. “You.” You choked out but even in your head it sounded like more of a question. 

“Cut!” The Director hollered, shattering the null. 

You expected Jake to pull away, drop his mouth from your wrist but he didn’t, your hand still in his grip, breath ghosting over your exposed arm.

You met the Director’s stony gaze, a flicker of annoyance lingering within them. “Sara you hesitated  _ far _ too long, say the line with more confidence not to mention-” Although the Director continued talking his words no longer mattered for your eyes found Zen. 

He was standing to the side, shadowed by the lack of light but you knew immediately he was rigid with rage. At his side his hands were curled into tight fists and his lips tugged into a flat line, a chill erupted through you and you yanked your hand from Jake’s. Bile coating your tongue you shambled off the set, “I-I’ve gotta use the washroom!” You lied, needing to get away. 

Before the Director could protest you sprinted down the corridor to the washroom, slamming the door behind you. Your hands fell to the porcelain rim of the sink and you promptly heaved your breakfast into the drain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that was that. let me know if you liked it. also idk how you all feel . . . should this become a nsfw fic? would you like to see some Zen/Mc smut or leave it PG let me know in the comments below. i'd like to please you guys. until next time~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Zen and you experience a long couple days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the hiatus. working over the holidays did nothing to spur creative ideas or the will to write. this chapter is longer due to that. thanks for your support!

After losing your light breakfast to the drain, your makeup assistant- a foreigner named Ivan, came in and patted at your face with rice paper, blotting oil from your cheeks, frowning deeply. You sat uncomfortably as he dabbed at your nose, and under your eyes. 

“Did you eat something weird this morning?” He asked, his concern barely covered by the annoyance over your smudged makeup. “You really had me worried you know, especially after all the time I spent working on your face.” 

“I’m fine.” You half-lied, “just tired.” 

Ivan’s blue eyes tightened, “are you not sleeping? Should I tell the Director-”

“No!” You exclaimed, jumping from your place on the sink counter. “I’m fine  _ really  _ don’t worry about it! I’ll be fine, I just need some time to think.” 

Another frown, this seemed to be Ivan’s usual expression. “ _ Well, _ if you say so, but you’d better get back out there. The Director will have  _ both  _ our heads if we take any longer and I don’t know about you but I’m  _ fond _ of mine.” 

Nodding with more exuberance than necessary, you hopped off the counter top and made your way to the bathroom door. “Thank you, Ivan. I owe you one.” 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Ivan gave you an exaggerated eyeroll, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “By the time  _ this  _ is all over, you’ll owe me far more than one. I’ll keep tally don’t worry.” 

“Thanks, I’ll be going then.” You said, ignoring his sarcasm. 

“Knock em’ dead kiddo.” He said in English with a sigh, a saying you didn’t completely understand but you nodded anyways. 

You had to get back out there yet the thought of witnessing the raw jealousy in Zen’s eyes scared you. At _ that _ moment you truly understood the weight of his words- ‘ _ all men are wolves _ ’. Right then you finally believed him. 

 

Once you returned to set, and appeased the Director with a string of apologies and bowing, shooting resumed. Jake didn’t say anything about you vomiting, despite the fact that you’d be lip locking soon. The rest of the shoot proceeded rather uneventfully but your heart sank when you noticed that during the third take Zen had stopped watching, disappearing from the off stage shadows. Although there was no further distractions from your performance- what awaited after the long day of shooting is what worried you. Would Zen and you fight? You rarely fought over anything but petty issues and it frightened you- was he so mad he’d refuse to come home? Sensing your internal strife Jake seemed to tiptoe around you, acting uncharacteristically cautious in your presence.  

“Are you alright?” He asked as you chugged deeply from an offered water bottle. “You seem quite rattled about something.” 

You managed a somewhat convincing smile, “it’s nothing!” You lied again, noting that Jake’s measured frown seemed to say he didn’t quite believe you. 

Finally, as the sun began to sink from its altar in the sky the Director began wrapping the production up, signaling the end of filming. 

“Good work today, we’ll meet back here same time tomorrow. Stars,” he turned to speak to you, Jin, Jake and Zen. “All three of you rest up and eat properly. And Sara, show up tomorrow looking less green around the gills.” 

Blushing self consciously, you nodded stiffly and smothered a grimace, if only he knew the reason for your illness. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Zen chat idly with a couple female stage hands, they seemed immensely charmed by him- of course they did, Zen could use his tongue to wrangle himself into even the coldest of hearts. Slowly you began to gather your things, hoping that Zen would soon join you- wanting to perhaps corner him on the train ride home. Yet, twenty minutes passed and Zen didn’t seem the slightest bit perturbed by your anxious presence; you were beginning to get annoyed now. It was _ Zen _ who was the jealous one _ \- he was the one who began this whole exhausting ordeal!  _ Fuming silently, you tugged on your windbreaker and headed for the backdoors, Zen could meet you at home if he wasn’t willing to cooperate! Trudging down the street, hands buried in your pockets you ignored the growing distant hollers and shouts of the fellow cast mates and crew members- many trying to call out to you, yet in your current disposition you were in no mood for idle chat. Once settled on the train you finally let the exhaustion of the day set in, sinking into the plastic moulded seats and letting your crusty eyelashes fall closed. For the millionth time you were consumed by doubts and the dread- that this was all due to your own selfish endeavour. Neither Zen nor you would be in this awful position if you hadn’t let yourself become swept away by the romanticism of acting and the world of drama. Snuggling deeply into the hood of your jacket you let your eyes fall closed, the gentle ringing of the subway lulling you into a dreamless sleep. 

By the time you finally awoke it took mere seconds to realize your foolish mistake. Blinking away the sleepy clouds that obscured your vision, you glanced around the near deserted train, immediately struck with a chill of terror. The skies outside the city, lights and buildings streaming by, dappled against a darkened city scape- buildings you didn’t recognize. You looked up at the illuminated stop indicator near the door, you were fourteen stations past where you were meant to get off! Forcing yourself to remain calm, you rationalized how long it would take to get back, you just needed to get off at the next stop and take a train going back into town. 

“Arriving at the next station in thirty seconds,” the chipper voice rang, echoing against the metal walls. “Get off here to transfer to the Midway line.” 

Collecting your bag and shrugging your coat back on, you stood and slipped through the doors as they slid open.   _ I need to call Zen,  _ your mind told you, what would he think if he knew what a stupid thing you’d done? Leaning against a tiled pillar you retrieved your phone-  _ 15 missed call?!  _ Opening your caller ID you realized each of them were from Zen, along with his frantic calling he’d also left 10 voicemails. You opened the first one, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hey . . . so where did you go? I just finished gathering my stuff up and now you’re gone. Call me back once you get this.” His tone was rather clipped and you could visualize the pinch between his brows signifying his irritation. 

At this point you knew you should return his calls, he was probably at home, pacing back and forth, worrying a track into the hardwood. Yet instead of hitting the ‘call’ button you decided to listen to the last voicemail he left you. 

Again his voice started and your heart leapt painfully against your ribcage. “Hi, I know what I did today was unacceptable.” A long breathy pause, he sounded like he was short of breath- his voice softer than previous. “But  _ please  _ come home.  _ Please _ . I know I messed up- probably big time- but I’m losing my mind here.” His words fell off, and a low exhale followed.

“You can be as angry as you want- just come  _ home _ . Bye.” 

You were rendered numb, the cellphone in your hand beeping distantly as the message ended. Never before had you heard Zen sound the way he did just then, suddenly your head swelled and a wave of nausea flooded down your throat to your toes.  _ You needed to get home-  _ frantically you looked around the unfamiliar station for a  traveler's guide; something with train times in it. Luckily you found one discarded on a nearby bench, thumbing through it you began to dial Zen’s number, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear.

He picked up immediately, “where are you?”

Blinking in confusion, you realized you didn’t rightly know  _ where  _ you were. Searching for a station name you found the avenue number posted above the tracks. “Um, fifty eighth avenue . . . I think.” 

A pause, “fifty eighth? Why are you way out there?” He asked, “if this is because of what happened today-”

“It’s not!” You replied vehemently, although that was partially a lie. “I-I fell asleep on the train.” You admitted shamefully.

Another pause. “You fell asleep on the train?” He repeated, “are you okay? Were you hurt? Anything stolen?” 

“No, no, no- I’m  _ fine _ .” You insisted but before you could say anything more your phone screen went dark as the remnants of your battery drained. 

“Oh no.” You exhaled, holding the now useless piece of glass and metal in your hand. 

A more immediate sensation of panic set in as you now had no way of calling a taxi or even looking up a bus time on your phone. Unsure what to do, the next train wouldn’t be coming by for nearly twenty minutes. You decided perhaps a warm beverage would soothe the electrified nerves in your stomach. Buying a small tea from a nearby vending machine you took a seat on a provided bench, trying to ignore the sour aftertaste of the brew. Time seemed to pass slowly and you itched to hear Zen’s voice, feel his arms wrap around you as he fended off the early spring chill. Vainly you wondered what he was doing, he had apologized in his voicemail yet you couldn’t help but feel this wasn’t the end of the problem. Why did they think they could manage to keep their love a secret? At that moment you were  _ very  _ annoyed with Zen’s agent. Truthfully it was a silly notion, to hide the tenderness they had for each other for the sake of Zen’s career- and now yours. You realized this was what Jaehee had warned you about all those months ago-  _ not to ruin Zen’s reputation.  _ Was that what you were doing- without even realizing it? 

Before you could dwell on such dark thoughts further the whistle of an approaching subway disrupted your silence. “Outgoing train, heading east.” The same voice said over the PDA and you shambled to get on, the doors clicking shut. 

Once again on the train you found a spot near the window, forcing yourself to continue drinking the awful tea to keep yourself awake, Zen would surely scold you if you made the same mistake twice. The city streamed by, district after district, and you watched as your stop approached. The boarding deck was crowded, perhaps there had been some kind of event in the neighbourhood, grabbing your things you pushed past the swell of people and onto the bustling platform. 

For a moment you just stood there, looking around for a way to escape the crush of people. Suddenly, someone grabbed your arm  and your neck snapped to bark at the offender. Crimson eyes paired with a furrow of brows, a face that despite looking worn and tight was overwhelmingly familiar. 

“Zen.” You greeted, voice soft in disbelief. 

“Thank god,” he exhaled and then his arms were around you, crushing you awkwardly against his lean frame. 

Ignoring the stares of passerbys you allowed yourself to welcome the warmth of your lover, to rejoice in this embrace you’d thought about all day. The subtle spice clinging to his coat, sang in resonance with your highlighted senses.  His hands were everywhere, brushing hair away from your eyes, the pads of his fingers gracing first your nose then the slant of cheeks, all the while gazing down at you with a sincerity that dared to set you aflame.   
“I was so worried,” he stated, his thumb refusing to leave its place alongside your eye. “When you cut off like that- what a reckless girl you are.” 

“More like stupid,” you chuckled, elated with his gentleness, not wanting to encroach on the tension of earlier. “I’m useless without you by my side it seems . . . falling asleep on the train, I’m such an idiot.” 

You were rewarded with a pleased grin, Zen’s broad shoulders sheltering you from the swarms of bustling human traffic. “Are you hungry? Would you like to go grab a bite to eat?”

Nodding the two of you made your way down the subway stairs onto the boulevard below. You were relieved Zen didn’t seem to be in the mood to discuss this morning's discourse, though you wished you could probe his brain and see what he was thinking. Despite the wind you felt warm, Zen’s reassuring presence alongside yours, hand cradled in his own. For now you wouldn’t think about tomorrow, about the obstacles you still needed to leap over. This was the time to be what you truly were- a couple who loved each other deeply. Once seated in a small restaurant, a bowl of steaming noodles and simmered vegetables enticing your depraved senses- all was good. 

Snapping his chopsticks open Zen offered you a sideways smile, scooping up a mouthful of noodles. “I thought you’d like this place. Seeing as you love noodles.” He said, stirring his broth absentmindedly.

“Hoping this acts as a balm for this morning?” You teased light heartedly, “just so you know . . . I was never mad at you.” 

Zen’s eyes widened, a reaction that surprised you, a thin cloak of red staining his pale cheeks. He seemed rather flustered suddenly, scratching at his warm face as if that would fend off the flush. 

“I wasn’t mad either.” He admitted, “I could never be mad at you.” 

“What was it then?” You ventured to ask, prodding at a stem of broccoli.

Exhaling, Zen abandoned his chopsticks, pressing the heel of his palm to his eye. “You know how I said ‘ _ all men are wolves’ _ ? At that moment . . .  all I wanted to do was take you as my own.” 

Gobbling, your jaw fell open and you dropped a chopstick into the bowl. “T-take me?” 

Again, Zen seemed quite embarrassed by his urges, nodding stiffly. “Is that selfish of me to say? Probably. It’s  _ hard  _ to want to claim you as mine- jump in front of Jake and  _ act _ .” 

Unsure what to say you nibbled your bottom lip, a thick silence falling upon the two of you. What a tempting offer. Zen didn’t need to know how those words set your blood aflame. 

Slowly, forcing the tremble from your fingers, you said; “don’t do it at work but anywhere else. . . I’m yours. Entirely.”

Saucer wide eyes gave way to a growing crooked smirk, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You shouldn’t say that, we’re in  _ public _ .” 

Laughing you resumed eating your noodles, “all the better then. I like seeing you sweat.”  

Chuckling, Zen took a deep sip of his water. “Tease.” 

 

The two of you walked home briskly, not bothering to call a cab for the short walk from the restaurant. There was a wonderful energy between the two of you, an awareness of each other’s presence. All of your senses were heightened, you watched him from the corner of your eye- the straightness of his jaw, narrow bridge of his nose. You knew he was doing the same, the heat of his gaze often lingering along your own features. It was alarming, his persistent gaze, all-consuming and it left you raw and self conscious. 

Unlocking your flat door, Zen smiled at you, a shy almost nervous smile- it made your heart do flips in your chest. In silence the two of you stripped yourselves of jackets, scarves and gloves- finally rid of the cumbersome layers. Making your way to the couch, ensuring you caught his gaze, you sat. It was an unspoken invitation, his hungry gaze confirmed his RSVP. Tugging his sweater over his head, wearing only a tank top and jeans he sat on the cushion beside you, eyes never leaving yours. Wordlessly you moved onto his lap, knees alongside his thighs, hovering inches from his mouth, able to taste his breath. 

“Kiss me,” you said, a whispered command. 

“Like you need to ask,” he mumbled, pressing a quick, almost fleeting kiss to your lips. “How was that?” 

“More,” another command, softer this time. 

Zen’s eyes fell closed and he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, dragging it into his mouth, worrying it deliberately. Tenderly he worked, slanting his mouth over yours with careful trepidation, you could taste your heart in your throat. This was what you longed for- kisses with passion and fervor. You knew you were supposed to replicate this with Jake- you were meant to be in love with him . . .but it was truly Sara Fisher who was in love with him. This sensation, Zen’s fingernails nipping your scalp, his throaty moans and the thrum of your combined heartbeats, this was  _ real _ . 

Drawing back, panting eyes glazed with desire, Zen smiled lazily. “God, I love you.” 

Blushing despite yourself you brought the tips of Zen’s ponytail to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the silvery strands. “I love you too, my prince.” 

A broken gasp, fingers stilling their  motions across your scalp, followed by a pleasured laugh. “Don’t tempt me,  _ princess _ . You’re playing with fire.” 

Ducking your head you kissed the skin below his ear lobe, “maybe I don’t mind getting burned.” 

A low growl, animalistic in nature and it caused your heart to stutter. Hands trailing the curves of your ribs, hips, thighs you knew you’d met your mark. Shifting his weight, arms tucked under your bottom you were lifted from the couch. 

Giggling you wrapped your arms around Zen’s neck, licking his adam’s apple, eliciting a hiss of excitement. A muscle feathered along his jaw, he was blind with need, muscles taunt and you were ready. Kicking open the door he set you on the edge of the bed, eyes bright. 

Taking your foot in hand, Zen peppered kisses up the inseam of your leg, scarlet eyes gleaming in the dark. “You’re going to regret tempting the beast. No holding back now.” 

Eyes falling closed, inhibitions gone, you sighed pleasurably, “will I?”

 

You’d slept well but not long, awaking in Zen’s warm arms. Blinking away the crusties, you reached for your phone- 4:29am. Groaning, you realized there was no hope you’d get anymore sleep tonight your alarm was set for 6am anyhow. Rising, slipping out of Zen’s arms you clothed your naked body in the dark, not bothering too much with your outfit- they’d change you on set anyways. Shuffling into the kitchen, tummy rumbling, you frowned as you noticed the notifications on your phone. ‘ _ Picture Message from Jake’ _ , your phone read and begrudging you opened it. Jake stood over Jin, who was sleeping on what looked like a giant stuffed dolphin, his mouth open, cigarette tucked behind his ear. In Jake’s hand was a can of American beer, a goofy smile on his face, eyes tinged with red. The caption was, ‘ _ join us next time? _ ’- and you couldn’t help but shake your head, what would Zen say if you told him you were going partying with Jake and Jin. Closing Jake’s message you noticed another text, this time from an unknown number. 

‘ _ Hi. This is Tristen. This is from my personal phone- forgive me for the lateness of this message. There has been a change of plans for today. Please either message or call me when you get this. Bye.’  _

Unsure what to think you dialed the number given, he picked up on the first ring.

“Ah, good morning. I didn’t expect you to be awake, thanks for returning my call.” He said politely, all business despite the hour. “As I mentioned in my message, things have changed and something has come up. Instead of filming the four of you have been invited to an interview down at MegaPress. It was rather sudden so I was inclined to decline but I can’t pass up offered air time- especially when I have a debuting actress on my cast.” 

He was referring to you of course, “ah, I see.” Was all you managed to say.

“Anyways, please meet me at the TV studio at half past 9. We’ll do a quick session of makeup and hair before you go. I’ll brief you on what to say once you get here, this is of large importance. Please ensure your stomach has settled. Bye now.” 

Then he hung up and you could breathe again- that man turned your blood to ice. Setting your phone aside you began cracking eggs into a bowl, a stressful morning can only be tackled by fluffy pancakes after all. You hoped Zen would be more at ease with this whole interview than yourself. 

 

As Tristen had promised there was a bunch of material for you to memorize for the interview, falsies placed upon your lids once again and lipgloss making your lips stick together. From across the room Zen didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, nodding dutifully as his tie was knotted;  he was so much more professional than yourself. 

“After they ask you about your childhood- be vague but cheerful we don’t have time for a sob story today, perhaps another more private interview.” The Director said sternly, “they will begin asking you about Jake, be wowed. I want you to sound like you admire him greatly, that he’s your mentor and has been helping you immensely in adjusting to the hectic schedule. If you are anything but positive it will tell the audience that the chemistry between the two of you is awkward rather than blossoming. We want to show them that you’re comfortable around each other.”   

Swallowing thickly you nodded your understanding, that was quite a tall order however. Truthfully, though you didn’t dislike Jake, you didn’t know him well and often his exuberance made you anxious. Ridding those thoughts from your mind you forced yourself into a more ‘girlish’ mind state. Compliment his appearance, be amazed by his acting prowess- you told yourself . . . how hard could it be? 

“You’re on in five!” A stage hand hollered around a clipboard, “everyone get ready for when you’re called.” 

“Urgh interviews are such a hassle. At least I get to do it with a cute girl, Jin is stuck with Zen- who's been shooting me glares since yesterday. What’s with that guy?” Jake spoke up suddenly, appearing beside you. 

Startled by his sudden arrival you gawked up at him, caught off guard. He looked customarily handsome, in a foreign, boyish way; his charm much different than Zen’s whose was almost  _ ethereal _ . 

“H-he’s probably just not feeling well is all.” You covered quickly, knowing  _ exactly  _ why Zen was glaring at the leading man. 

Jake raised an eyebrow, musing the idea. “Maybe he’s got the same bug as you? Don’t get me sick- I  _ hate  _ puking.” He said with a comically disgusted face, “I’ll still kiss you though.” Jake finished with a wink. 

Managing a smile you punched him in the arm playfully- this was the type of chemistry the Director was looking for, you had to play the part off stage too it would seem. 

“Is that a no? Ever since yesterday I can’t the taste of you out of my mind- you’re simply scrumptious.” Jake whispered so no one else was able to hear. 

Appalled, you schooled your face into one of humours annoyance, “haha quit joking around.” 

“My lady you wound me.” He exclaimed dramatically. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me onstage? It’s about that time.” 

Sighing internally, you placed your hand in Jake’s offered one- this was surely going to be a long day. Unable to talk to Zen the pair of you were quickly whisked onto the small set, placed into matching arm chairs as the lights came back up. There was a small live audience, mostly middle aged woman, clapping exuberantly. The heat of the lights still shone on you and you were afraid of every blemish on your face making a ghastly appearance under the stage lighting. 

The host, a well dressed, clean cut Korean man waved you forward, exposing two rows of polished ivory. “Hello, hello~ welcome, welcome!” He chorused as both you and Jake took your seats. 

There was a moment of applause, excitement and chatter rising from the small live audience. Then, as if told to silence and calm themselves, all became quiet. Without missing beat the host began, still grinning. 

“Welcome all, I’m positive you know who we have up here on stage. You have all been waiting excitedly for their arrival, for the steamy behind the scenes gossip and tales of the cast and crew. For those who don’t know, these two  _ attractive  _ people play Reagan and Sara in the upcoming drama; ‘ _ Lone Orchid’ _ .” 

A pause for another round of applause, Jake’s arm crept over to yours, fingers fluttering against your wrist- you choose to ignore the action. 

“And we’re equally pleased and excited to be here, Don.” Jake replied, the hosts nickname had a ring of familiarity to it- he’d been on this show before. 

The host chuckled amicably, evidently charmed by Jake as surely as the women in the crowd were. 

“As always Jake is quite the silver tongue. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you, friend. Let’s jump right into the  _ steamy  _ details- we want you to spill it  _ all _ \- how is working together on set?” 

Again before you could open your mouth, Jake spoke; “she’s my bestfriend- we get along so well on set, we just clicked immediately.” 

Shocked by his answer, your mouth unwittingly fell open- unable to conceal your surprise. Noting your facial expression, Don turned on you, eye twinkling. 

“Is this feeling shared? Jake can be quite a handful, are you as close as the casanova claims?” 

Their was a slight pressure on your wrist again, the weight of Jake’s calloused fingertips; he was silently trying to communicate with you despite his face remaining impassive. Swallowing, you forced a smile onto your glossy lips.

“We’re very close, as Jake said. We talk all the time, he calls me in the middle of the night- he’s annoying but I love him.” You said, although this wasn’t all lies you were definitely sugar-coating the truth. 

Another pause, “ _ love  _ him?” Don intoned, sitting forward in his seat, the crowd a soft thrum of whispers.

“Like a brother,” you corrected hurriedly, “t-that’s what I meant.” 

But the damage had been done. Don had decided this was a thought worth pursuing and immediately he launched into questions about the ‘kiss’ scenes- the entire while you were blushing like an fool which did nothing but further Don’s excitement. 

“So- is she a good kisser?” Don pressed. 

A coy smile, one you wanted to wipe off Jake’s lips. “She tastes like strawberries.” 

Your heart dropped to your knees and you blood ran cold-  _ why would he say that?!  _ Unable to say anything, the laughter of the crowd only served to electrify your nerves. The rest of the interview dragged on, awkward question answered by either you or Jake- mainly Jake however. Finally the half an hour passed and you were dismissed, much to Don’s chagrin. 

“I suppose our time is up, thanks for coming onto the show today. Stay tuned the rest of you! We have rising star and national heart throb, Zen and the talented and handsome Jin coming next!” 

Looping his arm around your waist, Jake guided you off stage, knees trembling as you carefully made your way down the stage steps. Zen and Jin were waiting in the wings, hair coiffed and cheeks powered like your own. Your eyes met with Zen’s, his jaw clenched and teeth grinding almost audibly- he must’ve heard the interview. Yet, before you had a chance to worry he smiled at you momentarily.  

“Good job out there guys,” he said cheerfully, “you really sold it.” 

Jake grinned and the energy between the two of them was less convincing than their poised smiles, a surge of unspoken tension. 

“Thanks dude,” a weird English word, “have fun out there.” 

Jin, who was standing aside Zen, also seemed to pick up on the stifling atmosphere for he crooked a wiry brow. He glanced between you and Jake curiously, then back at Zen before a knowing smile curled his lips- a slight nod. 

“Aren’t you expecting a phone call, Jake? You two had better clear out before the Director hunts you both down.” Jin said, instructing Jake none too gently. 

The change in Jake’s face was instant, his eyes tightened and his smile fell. The transformation was so startling you hardly noticed that his hand had retracted from your hip, now back at his own side.

“I’d almost forgot, thanks Jin. Well, I’ll see you three at the party tonight~ see ya.” Jake waved farewell, heading back into the greenroom. 

“Party?” You asked Jin, the was the first you’d heard of any party. 

“Yeah the Director is throwing a gala of sorts, we’re all supposed to go. He wants to parade the goods around of course.” Jin explained, sounding less than enthused. 

“Meeting with sponsors and other promoters for the show- it’s mainly business but there will be good drinks.” Zen continued to elaborate, the stiffness of his visage crumbling.  

Nodding your understanding, you wished to chat longer but the interview producer appeared and Zen and Jin were hurried away. There wasn’t much to do but wait for Zen to be done, settling down in an armchair- thinking about what tonight’s party might hold. 

 

The building the party was being held at was a sprawling vineyard out in the countryside, white European styled pillars, red lanterns hanging from lattice work and soft notes of jazz swelling from the belly of the beast. You, Zen, Jin and Jake were all brought by chauffeur, and since you’d come almost directly from the interview there was no time or privacy to chat with Zen. Jake and Jin were already pleasantly tipsy upon arrival, nursing whiskey in the limousine as you drove the winding roads. 

“Nice place, eh?” Jake chuckled, polishing off his third drink. 

Zen sat beside you, a reasonable distance away to avoid suspicion, he was slowly drinking a foreign beer- you could tell he was trying to stop himself from wrinkling his nose in disgust. As the driver pulled up beside the foyer of the grand villa the crush of voices reached your ears, by this point you were so exhausted you didn’t think you could keep up appearances much longer. The four of you got out of the car, you ignored the stumble of both Jake’s and Jin’s feet. 

“Alas, here we - _ hiccup-  _ be.” Jake chortled, “I’m gonna go check out the nosh’, catch you later.” 

Jin leapt forward, latching onto Jake as he also teetered on his feet. “Wait up ol’ buddy, we got some chattin’ to do. See you two later.” Jin waved, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

_ That guy knows something that he’s not telling us _ , you though to yourself curiously, trying to analyse Jin’s odd behaviour. Then Zen and you were left alone, standing in front of the villa. 

Glancing at you Zen finishes off his beer, wincing as the vile liquid vanishes. “ _ Fuck _ , that American shit is foul.” 

Giggling you're happy with the moment of respite, eager to pick Zen’s brains about the interview. It may seem silly but you were still overly conscious of his feelings, you had no desire for a repeat of yesterday. 

“Want to walk with me?” You asked, extending your hand. “I’m not that eager to go witness the Directors concentrated wrath this evening.” 

A slow smile, a warm tender one that made your bones melt. “I would love that.” But then his eyes found your hand and his smile fell. “Are we allowed to hold hands?” He whispered, “what if someone sees us?” 

“Who cares . . . I put my foot in my mouth so horribly today no one's bound to notice. If you’re that worried about it we’ll just stay outside.” You said, taking his hand. 

His fingers wrapped around yours, steady and familiar. There were no words needed as you slowly meandered through the gardens, the rustle of leaves, breath of mid-spring wind- it was a surprisingly warm evening. Weaving in and out of rows of shrubbery and berry speckled trees the pair of you stumbled across a small fountain glen, indigo waters bubbling their muted song. 

“This place is incredible,” you murmured, awe struck by the fantastical scenery. 

Tugging Zen over to the fountain edge you sat down on the marble, dipping two fingers into the chilly waters, swirling delicate patterns. The silence of the moment was almost overwhelming, it’d been awhile since the two of you could exist outside of your own home- the faraway hum of music highlighting the ambience. 

“Let’s dance,” Zen declared, gently pulling you to your feet. 

One hand fell to your hip and scooped up your own and placed it atop his own shoulder, fitting your hips against his. This was almost nostalgic, you and him used to dance frequently, slow waltz’ around the living room. Often you were envious of his grace, body becoming liquid as each muscle and limb found rhythm in even the simplest of beats. 

Smiling, you allowed yourself to succumb to the pace of the dance- a soft sway of feet across flagstone. There was no need for music, it was more of an embrace- an excuse to hold one another- than a dance. With measured patience his mouth fell to your shoulder, nipping the hollow of your collarbone, but he all too quickly withdrew. You were both afraid of onlooking eyes, being spotted amongst the ivy and greenery. 

“You look beautiful tonight-  _ every  _ night.” Zen said, correcting himself mid-sentence. “This is the last place I want to be right now, especially with  _ him  _ around.” You didn’t need to ask to know to whom he was referring. 

“Let’s make the most of now.” You breathed, “I’m happy to just be at your side.” 

A shaky exhale, his thumb trailing the seam of your ribs, up the side of your neck and then gliding along your lower lip. It was a distracted gesture, a longing one that was a suppression of a larger urge. 

“I want you at my side. Always.” He mumbled, hoarse. “I just wish it were easier.”

There was nothing to be said, your thoughts were his and you agreed wholeheartedly. You resumed your slow dance, around the fountain- time had ceased to exist but the moment of solace was disrupted by the familiar ring of Zen’s phone. 

Smiling apologetically, he withdrew and answered. Pacing to the other side of the fountain, brows drawn, he looked troubled. You knew that this call would signal Zen’s departure, that look on his face always signified such. Soon the call was over and he returned to confirm your suspicions. 

“That was my agent, he just got here and was rather  _ upset  _ that he couldn’t find me inside the villa. He tells me my presence is  _ required.  _ I’m sorry- I have to go.” 

Despite your disappointment, you understood. “It’s alright, I’ll come along too in a little while. I’m sure the Director is eager to sell me as Korea’s newest ‘thing’. You know how he is.” 

“Do I ever.” Zen grunted, then more tenderly he said. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Of course, see you later.” You said, sitting back on the fountain's edge as you watched Zen disappear down the garden path. 

Left alone in the peace of the garden the night became alive around you, soft gurgles of a nearby stream, the hum of crickets. It was within this sanctuary that you heard an alien noise, not the soft sounds of nature but angry mutters of humans. The disruption was coming from over a towering wall of bush, two voices speaking quietly but heatedly. Edging closer you tried to get within earshot- magically compelled to listen to the odd argument. 

Upon inching closer you began to recognize the two voices in question- belonging to none other than Jin and Jake! You couldn’t see them but now, ear pressed to the prickly branches of fern, you could hear each word. 

“I told you to back off! I warned you! To leave her alone-!” Jin was shouting in a yielded whisper,  voice quivering with rage. “Why do you  _ never  _ listen?!” 

You knew you shouldn’t be listening to this- you were intruding on a private conversation. Yet . . . who did they mean by ‘her’?

Jake responded in a tone you’d never heard him use before, low calm and icy cold. 

“Mind your own buisness, Jin. This is out of your hands.” 

There was a scuffle of feet, a clash of what- limbs? “Don’t you  _ dare _ .” 

Again, Jake’s voice was despondent- so different from his usual visage. “I’ve already made my choice, it’s  _ done _ .” 

A tension so thick you felt it rise over the hedge and strangle the will to move from your body. Silence, then a resigned sigh, more akin to a hiss. Then followed by the patter of footfalls, and then you realized- far too late that those hurried feet were rounding the corner you hide behind. Scrambling backwards, desperate to hide yourself you fell on your bottom. 

Then, in a blink, Jake stood over you- eyes stony and mouth screwed into a knot. Gasping, his eyes fell to you and his mask of fury morphed into one of shock.

“What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was it? did you enjoy it? please lemme know if you did :)))


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You discover some juicy details at a cast party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! here is the new chapter! thanks for waiting. please review below if you enjoy what you're about to read, i love hearing any kind of response!

The silence between the two of you was almost comical in length. You both stared at each other, mouths agape, chests rising and falling in uneven rhythm. Surprisingly it was Jake who spoke first, moulding his face back into one of controlled charm. Bending at the waist he extended a hand down towards you, smiling warmly. 

“Did you twist your ankle? Do you need a hand up?” 

Still shocked, you managed to nod, taking his hand- allowing him to pull you to your feet. “T-thank you.” You managed breathily, mind reeling. 

Another pregnant pause, Jake’s calculated kindness seemed to be drained for the time being, his eyes were tight and jaw locked. No longer was the suave and comfortable man whom you’d come to know on set, he was distant and seemed to collapse within himself; it frightened you. 

“Jake . . .” you began, not sure what it was you wished to ask. “Is everything alright?” 

He startled, blinking away the gloom that lingered in his eyes, he seemed taken aback by your question. “Haha, I guess I come off as kinda rattled, don’t I?” 

You watched him carefully, his hands twitching at his side-  _ he did look incredibly shaken.  _

“I  _ might’ve  _ overheard a bit of your argument with Jin,” you admitted quietly, somewhat worried what his reaction to this might be. “He seemed to be really angry about something.”

Jake screwed his mouth into a nasty grimace, nostrils flaring. “You heard that?” 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to admit your shameless eavesdropping scenario but you were also curious of the details of the argument- especially this aforementioned woman they seemed to be discussing. 

“So . . .  is everything okay between you? You two always seem so close it would be sad to see you fight.” You replied carefully, gauging Jake’s testy expression as he screwed his mouth about. 

Sighing rather dramatically, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t tell Jin you said that, if he thought people saw us as family he’d be  _ very  _ upset.” He muttered, looking at something over in the distance. “Jin and I . . . have a complicated relationship.” 

You couldn’t stop your eyebrows from raising,  _ relationship-  _ now that  _ was  _ juicy. Was there more to them than comfortable friendliness. “O-h? Relationship?” You intoned. 

Groaning, this seemed to irritate Jake further. “Wanna go for a walk with me? I need to get some air and I’m craving some company.” 

Surprised, you agreed, nodding quickly. Finally Jake’s stony mask broke and he graced you with a grateful grin. 

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” He said, heading down the pathway that rounded the fountain, heading towards the gazebo overlooking the valley. 

The only sound between the two of you was the crinkling of soggy leaves and the rustle of clothing, Jake’s hands were stuffed deep into his pant pockets and there was a noticeable slump to his shoulders, though the two of you weren’t close you felt like you needed to do something to remedy the situation. Chewing on the inside on your lip you pondered on what subject of conversation you could begin with, luckily it was Jake who started first. 

“I didn’t always want to be an actor, you know.” He said offhandedly, “when I was in my teens I wanted nothing more than to go to university, get a job at some law firm and marry some pretty southern girl.” 

“What changed your mind?” 

There was a moment of silence as the two of you scaled the steps of the gazebo, Jake’s hands falling to the railing as he gazed out at the firefly lit garden. 

“Meeting Jin did.” Jake admitted, “he was doing an actor’s workshop at my university- a class I only went to because my girlfriend at the time wanted to. It only took the one class to change everything I thought I wanted. I was  _ entranced _ . Afterwards we became quick friends, despite our differences. He always supported my decisions where every other person in my life didn’t; my parents were appalled, of course. For a time he acted as my agent, getting me small gigs, teaching me the craft- I owe everything to him.” 

Stunned, you couldn’t speak as Jake retold his story- who knew such a larger than life man had such a humble beginning. 

“It changed three years ago, when I landed my first big role in this Hollywood blockbuster. It wasn’t a part I was particularly proud of yet it set my future into motion- it was also at this time that I began to pull away from Jin. I thought I was better than him- I was invincible and I didn’t need anyone to give me instruction. We didn’t speak for a long time.” Jake said with a tired huff, “we only reconnected recently actually. Three weeks before the audition for this show. He called me and told me about the part as Reagan, how it would suit me perfectly since I knew Korean and was comfortable with the culture. He always surprises me, even though for years I pushed him away he was still willing to help me out. I wanted a chance to prove myself to him, to work alongside him and regain his trust but now . . .” Jake trailed off, fingernails biting into the white lacquered wood of the railing. 

“But now . . .?” You prompted, completely enthralled by his story.  

Letting out a breathy chuckle Jake shook his head, obviously spent with revealing his mysterious past. “That’s enough whining. I’m sure you have other things to do- not to mention Zen is probably poking around here, worried I’ve spirited you away or something.” 

“W-what?! N-no he’s not!” You gobbled hopelessly, taken aback. 

Another laugh, this one more genuine than the last. “Did you figure I was blind or something? I’m an  _ actor _ you know- I’m pretty good at understanding emotions. Whatever the two of you have going, he seems to care for you a lot. I’ll try to lay off the charm when he’s around. No promises though, you being so cute makes it hard to resist.” 

Frozen with shock you were unable to do anything as he leaned in, lips gracing the slope of your cheek. 

“I’ll catch you later,  _ princess _ .” He purred, unable to suppress his grin at your flabbergasted expression. 

Stuck in place, legs refusing to move, you watched as Jake once again disappeared into the greenery, eaten whole by the expanse of leaves. Unsure what to think of what had just transpired you thought it best to head into the villa- it was time to fulfill your socializing quota. Inside the atmosphere was more stifling than you could have possibly imagined, crowds of people, necks tucked into collars and decorated with bow ties or gems. Music seemed to act as a blanket of sound, providing cover for secret conversation provided by a small four piece group stashed in a corner, eyes glued to sheet music. The Director stood in the centre of it all, the tempest of the brewing storm, seamlessly blending in with the stuffy bourgeois. As soon as his eyes found you something sparked in those expressionless stony irises and you knew- without him even opening his mouth your presence was required. You came to his side dutifully, bowing politely to his fellow associates- many whom were foreigners. 

“Ah, my dear there you are, I’ve been looking for you all evening.” The Director said pleasantly, acting far friendlier than his chilled stare would permit. “Let me introduce you to my friends here- fellow businessmen who also share an interest in the arts. First is Chase Reigh- he runs a popular theatre troupe in London you’ll never met a finer thespian enthusiast.” 

“How do you do?” He greeted in a wobbly accent, clearly unused to speaking Korean at lengths like the Director. 

“Second we have Diego Sanchez- he owns the largest chain of luxury spas in Mexico, finest establishment I’ve ever had the pleasure to stay in.” The Director explained graciously, eyes still chilled. 

“A pleasure.” The beautifully dark skinned man said, taking your hand swiftly and kissing it. “Should you ever need to unwind keep  _ me  _ in mind.” 

Swallowing nervously he wasn’t allowed to continue schmoozing for the Director introduced the final man, his closely shaven head cocked to the side as he inspected you. 

“And this is Renshi Yamada- he a  _ craftsman  _ of sorts.” The Director finished, an odd emphasis on craftsman. 

The broad shouldered Japanese man bowed curtly, his face schooled into a mask of polished indifference. “Hello.” 

Intimidated by these three powerful, rich men all you knew to do was nod and smile, almost grateful for the Directors imposing presence. 

“These three men have been  _ very  _ eager to meet you, in fact they’ve spoken of little else this evening- would you honor them with a dance?” The Director asked but you knew it wasn’t a question but a command. 

Forcing a smile you nodded again, “of course. I would love tp.” 

Chase stepped forward first, offering a hand. “Hopefully we’ll be able to liven this dreary atmosphere with some dancing.” He joked, stumbling once on the words. 

You accepted his hand, out of the three men Chase seemed the least intimidating at the very least- a short statured British man with a timid grace. Crossing the tiles to the centre of the room he led you into a slow waltz, hands respectfully above your hips. Now out of earshot of the Director both of you visibly relaxed, Chase exhaling a breathy gasp of air. 

“That man terrifies me,” he admitted, then he grumbled something in English you didn’t quite catch- it sounded like, ‘ _ that man could scare the Devil himself’.  _

Pausing to think on the pronunciation you decided it would be easier to converse in English,you’d been picking it up from Jake so you attempted a try. “So, why are you here truly?” You asked slowly, unsure of your accent.

Chase’s eyes widened then a small shy smile, happy you were able to speak English. “Truthfully I had little choice. My theatre troupe, ‘ _ The Rogues’  _ is financially destitute, it costs far more to put on productions than we make doing them.” He confessed, nibbling his lower lip. “I owe Tristen a great deal of money. He told me if I took a role in his new show he’d relieve us of our unfortunate position.” 

“Role?” You questioned, as far as you knew all the roles had been cast.

Chase seemed to fluster and he accidentally knocked your foot with his own. “Ah! I’m sorry. And yes, he found out an unfortunate secret of mine. . . I can  _ sing _ . Well actually.”

“So he’s making you sing in the show?” 

“The opening actually, and I’ll be composing a majority of the score as well. He’s roped me up real tight- along with the others.” He muttered with a grimace, obviously distressed. 

“He has dirt on all of them?”  

“Yes. Each of them has been manipulated by Tristen. Friendly word of advice, don’t  _ trust  _ him. It may not happen now but if you let yourself slip you’ll find yourself in his pocket, another chess piece and Tristen is an excellent chess player.” 

Frightened you didn’t know what to say, Chase offered you a sympathetic smile. “Be smarter than myself, Miss. Sara Fisher.” He said releasing his hold on your hip.

Gulping you nodded, “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around, Chase Reigh.” 

“Yes, I suppose we will be, won’t we? Enjoy the rest of your evening~” He said before heading off in direction of the punchbowl- hopefully spiked with something stronger than citrus. 

Left rather befuddled, Diego Sanchez approached you second, he was more handsy than Chase and didn’t reveal much of himself. He spun you faster, talking about how much he disliked travelling and Korean food- his true intentions were obscured by a rapid-fire mouth and a unwillingness to flinch. You were unable to decipher what he was doing here or what he owed the Director. Thankfully this song seemed to end quickly then there was only Mr. Yamada. As Sanchez before, he seemed to have little interest in chatting- he too seemed to be dancing for the Director’s benefit for he kept glancing his way. On one spin something on his hand caught the light, curious you looked closer and spotted a slim wedding band, rather worn and a faded gold. 

“You’re married, Yamada-san?” You asked, remembering to use your Japanese honorifics. 

He blinked steadily, obviously taken aback by the question. “I was once.” He said rather quietly, his Korean was so good you couldn’t detect an accent. 

Puzzled by his vagueness, you asked. “Not anymore?” 

“Not for quite some time. My wife- she’s dead.” He answered, his emotionless tone not betraying anything. 

“ _ Ohmygod _ ! I’m so sorry.” You spluttered, ashamed by your prying. 

“It is of no concern of yours, you didn’t know her. I continue wearing it for my daughter's’ sake.” He explained, his fierce expression softening marginally on the mention of his daughter.

“What’s her name?” You asked, eager to change the subject. 

“Ayuumi. She just turned ten.” 

“She must be delightful, I remember when I was that age.” You mentioned nervously, seriously perturbed by this robotic man. 

Mr. Yamada didn’t say anymore, prone to thought you figured as he dutifully spun you. Once the song ended he released you immediately, “good evening, I will be seeing you around surely.” 

Suddenly alone, your dancing obligations fulfilled you were left with only your thoughts as company. Perhaps the Director- though truthfully he was already plenty scary enough, was more intimidating of man then even you realized. Needing refreshment to soothe the bubbling thoughts you sought the drinks table, reaching for a chilled glass of white wine, it was then that Zen found you. He appeared decidedly more flustered than your brief soiree in the gardens, mayhap his agent had given him some bad news, you hoped not. 

“Everything alright?” You asked, watching as he gulped down a generous shot of American whiskey. 

Cringing, he set the glass down, tongue tracing the front rows of his ivory teeth. You wondered if he had been indulged about some interesting facts that eve as you had. 

“Better now that you’re here,” he said warmly, his eyes softening. “How has your evening been so far?” 

You then realized you’d been so consumed in thinking about the Director and his potential plotting you’d nearly forgotten your off interaction with Jake. Zen must’ve caught the frown monopolizing your face for he leaned in and whispered. “What is it? Did something happen?” 

“Yes, actually.” You whispered back, hoping your secret conversation wasn’t noticed. “I think Jake is on to us.” 

Brows crinkling, Zen paled slightly. “You mean about our relationship?” 

Nodding you brought your mouth close to his ear, “I caught him and Jin fighting in the garden, they were arguing about something- or  _ someone,  _ a girl I think.”

Zen’s paired frown grew deeper, “a girl? It couldn’t be  _ you,  _ could it?” 

Shrugging, you took a small sip of wine before you continued, “I couldn’t say, they didn’t mention any names. I’ve never seen them that mad before- you should’ve seen Jake!” 

Turmoil moulded Zen’s lips into a deep scowl, the mere possibility that you could be the girl in discussion infuriated him. Realizing that the two of you were clearly drawing attention, you set aside your glass and took his hand. 

“Let’s dance!” You said with a smile, “no more dreary thoughts!” 

Zen blinked twice before a slow grin broke his previous rage, the twinkle in his eye returning. “I would love too.” 

Pulling you close, you began to sway, chests mere centimeters apart to avoid suspicion but eyes warm enough to compensate. When Zen held you it felt  _ right,  _ you’d been in many people’s arms this evening yet nothing seemed to fit like this. Call it foolish but as Zen leaned in, as if to steal a kiss but instead blew a chilled breath of air down your spine, gooseflesh blooming- you felt  _ alive _ . Music was irrelevant here, neither of you required it. In heels you reached just below Zen’s chin, and with every opportunity you had you returned his previous favor by blowing warm air across his throat. Despite watchful eyes it was impossible to stem the chemistry and desire you had for one another, every glance was charged and each glide an excuse to bump chests, hips, hands. 

“This is torture.” Zen huffed, just loud enough for you to hear. “My agent warned me to keep it strictly business when we’re together but when it comes to you . . . “He trailed off, you knew what he meant for you felt the same.   
“It’s impossible?” You finished, speaking delicately. 

“More than impossible. I’m a ticking time bomb, how long is my fuse? How long until I explode.” Zen grunted out, a muscle feathering along his jaw. 

“Then  _ boom _ , beast unleashed time?” You teased, giggling into his shoulder as he held you close. 

Groaning and rolling his eyes Zen begrudgingly released you as the song ended, “You live to torture me don’t you?” 

Mock-pouting, you stuck your tongue out at him. “It’s one of my talents. You should probably go entertain some more ladies other than your girlfriend, before your agent tracks you down and hogties you.” 

“Easy for you to say. Whenever I don’t have an eye on you you always seem to run into trouble!” Zen bemoaned. 

“Shush, shush. Now, go be a ladies man. I’d say midnight is probably an acceptable time for us to bail. Meet me by the fountain then?” You asked, noticing a huddle of girls had gathered near the punchbowl, watching each of your interactions with Zen. 

Rolling his eyes one last time Zen saluted dramatically, clicking his heel. “Yes, ma’am. Off to sweet-talk some ladies, ma’am.” 

“Don’t be  _ too  _ sweet.” You chastised softly, a blush creeping up your face. 

Zen laughed happily, pleased by your uncharacteristic show of jealousy. “As you command,  _ princess _ .” 

Then he was off, shoulders squared as he approached the giggly gaggle of girls. The moment Zen left the Director appeared at your side, as if he’d risen from the punch bowl itself- his quiet presence startling you. 

“You look pretty this evening.”He complimented though it felt rather obligatory than anything. “I can’t help but notice you and Zen seem rather close. Nothing to be concerned about I’m sure?” He asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

So he’d noticed too? That was the curse of working with theatre folk, too observant of others and body language. For half a second you were tempted to tell him the truth, but would it cost Zen his role? His career? You held your tongue and smiled mildly. 

“We’ve known each other for a long time is all.” You lied, hiding your twitching lips behind the rim of your wineglass. 

“High school friends?” The Director asked. 

“Something like that,” you conceded. 

The Director was about to ask something else but before he could get the words out, Jin appeared, cigarette clenched between his teeth and eyes cold. Noticing Jin’s presence the Director greeted him. 

“Evening’ Jin. Should you be smoking indoors?” The Director asked with the same calculated calm as before. 

“Hm?” Jin said, obviously distracted, “oh! Sorry sir, I’ll go outside.” Then turning to you, face still unreadable he asked, “would you care to accompany me?” 

Surprised by his offer, Jin rarely spoke to you and when he did he was the image of business and neutrality. 

“A-alright.” You said, coming over to his side. 

Jin gave you a small, rare smile, taking your hand in his. “Let’s go then, before the villa staff castrate me for smoking indoors.” 

You followed him, neither of you talking which made the silence tense. In no way could you possibly fathom what Jin wanted from you- he was incredibly difficult to understand and seemed to maintain a professional distance with all but Jake. Everything that had transpired this evening was rather overwhelming, so many faces, new knowledge and controversy. You had no idea who to trust anymore. Aside from Zen that is.

Jin lead you to the art gallery, a deserted, tiled hallway filled with exotic art, statues and set aglow by tall, three tiered windows. The room was dark, and you were unsure if you were even allowed to be in this part of the villa, yet Jin seemed unperturbed. He’d let go of your hand and was standing in front of a painting on the other side of the room, still smoking. At a loss as to why he brought you here, you went and stood aside him, looking at the painting he was gazing at. It was a small piece compared to the others, a beach landscape done in pastel hues with a rather unremarkable style and appeal. Though the piece was underwhelming to you Jin seemed entranced, eyes following every slope and patch of color. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” He asked in a distant croaky voice. 

Glancing at him, you nodded. “Yes. Very.” A lie but you couldn’t disagree with Jin when he looked so nostalgic. 

“It reminds me of the simpler times. Easier times.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly. 

Sighing Jin took a final inhale then crushed his cigarette butt into the bottom of his shoe. “I come here often. I’ve always loved art. Been  _ attracted  _ to those who seem to ooze talent and passion. I lack that natural aptitude but I surround myself by those who do.”

Puzzled, you watched his face, eyes still glued to the panting. “That must be why Jake and you get along.” 

Jin blinked twice, a barely noticeable action of shock. A slow smile spread across his face, “yes, it must be. It’s also why I like you-Zen too of course- you have what I lack.” 

Flustered by his compliment, you were unsure what to say. “T-thank you but you’re very talented Jin. Anyone can see that.” 

“Talented yes . . . passionate no.” He said softly, “I lack what is most vital in this industry.” 

More silence, Jin still staring at the painting and you at a complete loss. This situation was so bizarre, you hadn’t expected this at all-how did this relate to the argument Jin and Jake had earlier? 

Suddenly Jin spoke again, “have you ever been in love?” 

Choking on your tongue, you spluttered and looked up at him. “In love?!” 

“Yes,  _ love _ \- the illustrious notion that motivates all art and compels the world. Have you ever experienced it?” Jin exhaled breathily, looking at you from the corner of his eye. 

Immediately, as if on command a collage of moments spent with Zen came to mind, shared ice cream cones, early-morning kisses and laughs. “Yes, I have.” You confessed, cheeks flushing.

“ _ Ah _ ~ another thing you have on me. Perhaps I’m lacking passion in every regard?” Jin mused thoughtfully, “or perhaps . . .” he trailed off, thumb pressed to his bottom lip, brown eyes distant. “No, nevermind. Ignore me, wine always makes me sentimental. You’d better go, it’s nearly midnight~” Jin said with a wink, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

As Jin sauntered off you glanced at your cellphone, he was right- the time was 11:59. Hurrying you ran from the gallery, looking back at the painting one final time- a small card aside the painting read ‘ _Artist Ji Hee Pak’_ _Age: 11’_. Before you could dwell on it any longer your phone vibrated, a text from Zen; _‘where are you at?’_ Cursing under your breath you ran to the garden, nearly tripping down the marble steps. Rounding the shrubbery you saw a rather disheveled Zen pacing the fountain, chewing his lip. 

“There you are! I was getting worried again.” He scolded lightly, betrayed by his smile. 

“When  _ aren’t _ you worried? Did you call a cab already?” You asked. 

“Yeah, it’ll be out front in a couple minutes. Anything else happen to you this evening?” He asked, picking up on your distracted expression. 

“Yeah, actually. I had a  _ very  _ interesting conversation with Jin.” 

Crimson eyes narrowed marginally, “what did he say? He didn’t do anything weird did he?” Zen asked quickly, stepping closer to you. 

Shaking your head you tried to recall the conversation, all of it was so mysterious- you still couldn’t understand him at all. “No, he was a gentleman. We talked of art and . . . _ passion _ .” 

An inward groan, “I don’t like the sound of  _ that _ at all.” 

Rolling your eyes you ignored your nervous boyfriend, “he brought me to the art gallery, he kept talking about this once painting. A beach.” 

“Ah, that makes sense. His sister is an artist isn’t she? Rather renowned too. This is their summer villa so it makes sense her paintings are here.” 

Eyes widening you gobbed, “this is Jin’s  _ home _ ?” 

Confused by your shock, Zen nodded. “You didn’t know? Both Jin’s parents are very wealthy patrons of the arts, his mother a cellist and his father a sculptor.” 

Absorbing this information, the conversation before seemed to be making more and more sense. “What’s his sister’s name?” 

Zen appeared thoughtful for a moment before his eyes lit up, “Ji Hee! Yeah, that’s it! She’s three years younger than Jin.” 

So that painting was his sister’s? Maybe he was jealous of her? Though Jin didn’t seem to be one prone to jealousy. So what did that mystifying conversation mean? 

“Actually I believe the Director contracted her to do the promotional art for the show, she spends most of her time overseas but she’s back in Seoul for a short period of time. Jake was talking about her the other day- said he knows her- must be amazing! She’s so famous!” Zen continued, unaware that you were barely listening. “Why did you want to know?” 

Unsure if you should be sharing the entire details of your conversation with Jin you just smiled and shook your head, “no reason really. Do you think the taxi is here yet?” 

“Oh shit! We’d better go.” Zen cursed. 

The two of you took off, kicking your heels off and holding them in your hand, tearing down the garden pathways, into the nightscape. 

 

The next day was far too busy to question either Jake or Jin on the previous night's transgressions. It was back to filming and Ivan, your makeup designer, seemed particularly irritated today. 

“Do you even sleep?!” He grunted angrily, patting powder under your eyes. “Your eye bags are so dark they seem to be mocking me.”

“S-sorry.” You mumbled, suppressing the tingle in your throat as swallowed a cloud of powder. 

“Why did the Director pick a girl who can barely take care of herself?” Ivan bemoaned, retrieving a mascara wand and coating your lashes. “You live alone don’t you? Otherwise you’d have someone taking care of you.” 

Laughing sheepishly you responded, “yup, you guessed it.” It was probably for the best to lie even to Ivan- just to be safe. 

Once Ivan had completed his work, still grumbling to himself about how many layers of foundation your skin needed- it was time to film. Making your way out to the set you noticed that Jake and Jin didn’t seem to be conversing as they usually did. Instead Jake was on one side of the room, reading lines and Jin was on the other, sipping from his water bottle. Odd, you thought. However you didn’t have much more time to dwell on it for the Director had retrieved his megaphone and you knew that meant business.

“Hello everyone, this is shooting day 2! There has been a slight change of plans, instead of the warehouse scene we’ll be doing the cell scene between Sung Min and Sara- staff on standby please!” 

Taken aback at the Director’s sudden change of plans your eyes automatically sought Zen’s, who too looked rather startled. As the stage hands began to shift things around preparing for the change you couldn’t help but stare at Zen- he was enthralling. Eyes rimmed in eyeliner, creating a catching contrast of red and black, cheekbones leaping from the porcelain skin of his face. Donning a tight outfit of leather, belts and spikes he looked nothing like the crime lords in American dramas- he looked like a vampire, poised and sculpted. A deadly beauty. 

Your enrapture was interrupted by Ivan, who was cursing in English. “Of  _ course  _ I can completely erase all the work I _ just _ did, Director!” He drawled sarcastically, reaching for your face with a wetted tissue. “No problem at all! I love to  _ ruin  _ all my hardwork!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, Ivan was more dramatic than all the actors here. Dutifully you allowed him to turn you into the image of ‘ _ distressed beauty’ _ . In this scene it would be two weeks after your capture, before Jake’s character came to save you. Sung Min would be trying to persuade Sara to give him information on Reagan, having a personal vendetta against the Detective after he killed his brother during another case. It would be your first time acting alongside Zen- _ alone _ .  

Quickly your civilian outfit was exchanged for a dirty nightgown, your lipstick smudged, eye makeup creating dark hollows around your honeyed eyes. In comparison to Zen you looked a wreck, you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. 

“Final touch!” Ivan smirked cheekily, holding up two silicon inserts. 

“What are those for?” You asked. 

“I’m appalled you have to ask. They’re gonna bump you from a slim B to a generous C, my girl. Here, lift your arms.” Ivan instructed. 

Unable to prevent yourself from blushing in mortification, Ivan slipped the two chilled inserts into your bra, wiggling his fingers once he’d retracted them from your chest. 

“ _ Tada~ _ you now know my all time favourite secret.” Ivan chuckled as your blush brightened, “should I give you some for personal use?” 

“N-no thank you!” You yelped, horrified by his insinuation.

“Prude,” he huffed, “anyways, kill it out there, kiddo.” 

Nodding stiffly, unsettled by how cold the silicon breasts were you made your way over to the set- and Zen. He was concentrated, listening to something the Director was saying- jaw locked and shoulders squared. You needed to emulate his professionalism, taking a deep breath you joined them.

“This scene is very emotionally charged. I need you, Sara, to be on the verge of tears the only thing preventing you from crying is your exhaustion. You’re terrified of Sung Min and he knows this, avoid direct eye contact,  _ cower  _ as he addresses you. You understand?” The Director asked, gaze intense. 

“Yes, I understand.” You said with an affirmative nod. 

“Good, go get into your places, scene opens with Sara trying to use the fork to break her handcuffs, that’s when you come in Sung Min.” 

“Right,” Zen nodded. 

“Okay, let’s do this!” The Director shouted, clapping his hands. “Everyone places!” 

You were guided by a stage hand into the cell, one of them without warning smudging your cheek with a smear of fake blood and cuffing your hands. The cell was dirty, obviously made to seem so, but it unsettled you nonetheless- it would be easy to act as if you were scared in a place such as this. Settling onto the cold ground, you rolled your shins in the grime, you needed to look like you’d been in there for many days. You found the fork as the Director had said, set to your left with a banged up bowl. Zen was offstage still so you were unable to see him, you were nervous, stomach blossoming in waves of nausea. The Director situated himself in his chair, microphone in lap and glasses perched on his long nose. 

“Alright, three, two, one,  _ action! _ ” 

Then you came alive. Suddenly the outside world didn’t matter or perhaps it never existed- you became Sara and Sara you. You reached for the fork as you had been directed to, whimpering plaintively as you worked the bent teeth into the handcuff lock. Over and over you twisted the utensil, glancing about the cell, eyes fearful. The audience needed to feel your desperation and terror, you were a foreigner in a country you didn’t know or understand- they needed to  _ taste  _ your fear as if it was their own. A loud bang caused you to jerk, the fork flying from your grasp and through the gaps of the prison bars. Neck snapping up, you saw him-  _ Sung Min!  _ Instinctively, you crawled backwards, collapsing in on yourself. In this world it wasn’t Zen, he was a crime lord, your captor, and personal terror- that was all. 

“Leave me,” Zen grumbled to his two hulking bodyguards followed by their retreating footsteps.

Though you can’t look at him you were sorely tempted, to see him standing there- would his lips be twisted into a grimace or a menacing grin? This was your first impression of Sung Min but not Sara’s; you were curious but she must be terrified. 

Three strides and he’s at the bars of your cage, suddenly it seemed even smaller than before. His presence seemed to demand your attention, you wanted nothing more than to gaze up at him, take in his beauty once again, yet you couldn’t- instead you clenched your fists at your side. 

“I see you’re still cowering in your own filth,” he sneered, voice a low and tempting velvet. “Pathetic American mouse. I want very little from you yet you  _ continue  _ to deny me.” Zen’s lines were spoken slowly and surely and despite you knowing his voice anywhere- he was no longer the man you love. 

You spoke quietly but surely, “what you want it not in my power to give.” The wobble in your voice is only partly intentional. 

A snarl and the cell bars rattled as a steel toed boot slammed into them. Terror-stricken, you jump backwards even further, wrapping your arms around your knees, swallowing sobs.

“You’re even stupider than you look if you think I’m going to play mind games with you, bitch. Tell me where Reagan is or you’ll become personalized  _ very  _ quickly with my new boots.” Each word is spoken with deliberate intention, icy and deathly serious. 

Despite the threat in his words you feel compelled to look at him, see the rage frothing in his irises as he spits at you, witness the hatred enunciated with every word. Almost like a compulsion before you can stop yourself your eyes are locked on his own. You watch as Zen startles, not expecting you to meet his gaze yet unable to look away either. Mentally your mind is screaming,  _ look away, look away, look away _ ! Yet, here in this static moment all is quiet, it’s Zen who speaks first, returning to the script. 

“D-don’t try to dissuade me, woman! I  _ will  _ have what I want from you whether that means your death or not!” He replied hotly, unable to prevent his initial stammer. Neither of you seemed to notice that you’d skipped over your line- ‘ _ I’m not afraid of you.’  _

Eyes still on his, you exhaled your next line, “I’m not afraid of death either.” 

Zen seemed to falter, a reaction he wasn’t supposed to have.The energy of the scene is foreign now, there is an almost tangible reluctance, as if Sung Min doesn’t wish to hurt Sara. 

Slowly Zen wrapped his fingers around the bars, knuckles white from strain, resting his forehead against them, eyes shadowed. The line that follows, ‘ _ well you should be’  _ in the script was meant to be read as a snarl, another threat to Sara’s person however that is not what happened next. 

“Well you should be,” Zen breathed, but there is a furtive strain to them, almost akin to a plea. Instead of a sinister promise Sung Min was begging Sara to reconsider- value her life. Not to force his hand into hurting her. 

Before you can speak a voice from the outside dimension breaks your shared dream, “cut!” 

In the blink of an eye the moment is lost, as you snap rather harshly back to reality. Immediately aware of your actions you look at the Director's face- what will he think?! Did he feel the energy between Zen and yourself as well? 

Much to your relief his face is still unreadable, yet something unknown to you lingers in his eyes. “Sara, Sung Min- go get some water. We’ll be doing that again in a moment. Jake come here a moment, I need to speak to you.”

Startled by his quick dismissal you are let go from the cage, ushered off stage by unfamiliar hands without so much as a word between Zen and you. By chance you catch Jin’s watchful gaze, both eyebrows raised and eyes wide. Dread floods your stomach-  _ now he’s certain too _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there we go! check back soon for another update! let me know if you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> so that was that. how did you like it? it sounded better in my head maybe than in execution? idk please let me know if you wanna see more of this idea bc it would really validate my existence :-)  
> thanks!!!


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